


COLLECTION: Kinktober 2018

by WhatTheBodyGraspsNot



Series: The Oneshots Collection [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-01 13:17:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 38,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16285280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatTheBodyGraspsNot/pseuds/WhatTheBodyGraspsNot
Summary: October Kinktober Challenge! Please check each chapter's added tags for important warnings for each fill!*INCLUDES*-Vampire AU





	1. Masks

**Author's Note:**

> October 1st  
> 1\. “Can you feel this?”  
>  ~~Deep-Throating | Inflation | Face-Sitting~~ | **Masks**

Lance doesn’t really know where he is. Doesn’t really know who’s Halloween party he’s at. Pretty much only has a grasp on the fact that it’s Hunk’s friend’s house and he’s pretty drunk and his Deadpool mask is really getting in the way of things, the fabric rolled up past his nose so he can drink and eat and…you know…breathe.

Not everyone’s in masks. There’s a fair number of teeny tiny dresses and classic banana body suits and shit like that. He thinks he saw a Ron Burgundy roaming around here somewhere, but that might’ve just been his imagination. Yep, everyone pretty much put a good amount of effort into their costumes, it seems. Well, except for _this guy._

“Okay…I don’t get it.” Lance has been eyeing him across the room for like three hours now, trying to figure out the plain-clothes and black fabric eye mask look. “What’re you supposed to be?”

It’s worth noting that this guy has been looking too. It hasn’t just been Lance staring the entire evening. But that’s no doubt because he’s admiring Lance’s amazing Deadpool jumpsuit, so…

Anyway. He close enough now. This mystery guy. Close enough to see the dark eyes under his mask. To see the relatively sharp jawline that Lance couldn’t make out from across the dark room. And he’s close enough now. The mystery guy. Close enough that he only has to raise his voice a little above the music when he finally indulges.

“Ninja turtle.”

The smile that falls to Lance’s lips is amused. If not completely lost. “A ninja turtle?”

“Yep.”

Um. “It’s a black mask.”

“Yep.”

“O-… Which turtle has a black mask?”

The guy shrugs, tone uninterested as his gaze pans out to the crowd. “I dunno,  _Sammy_ or somethin’…?”

He takes a long drink from his cup. Practically drains that shit. Keeps his eyes on the crowd as the music continues on and-…

…Sammy.

Sammy…the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle…

“You’re just here to get smashed, aren’t you.”

“You catch on quick.”

Lance can’t help but huff a chuckle at that. At least the guy knows what he wants. “You even know anyone here?”

“Yeah.”

“Who.”

“Shiro.” (Lance has no idea who that is, but it doesn’t matter because then the guy is turning back to him, those eyes darting over what’s uncovered of Lance’s face.) “And you.”

It sends a shiver of anticipation up his spine that he wasn’t expecting. Makes him take a drink from his own cup. Rum and juice. “I don’t think I count.”

“You count.”

“You don’t even know my name.”

“Yeah I do.” It’s something about his eyes. Another shiver. And wait…he knows Lance’s name…? He’s heard about him? “Wade Wilson…” he grins, teeth straight and canines pointy and bizarrely attractive. “Right?”

Lance has to tear his eyes away from his mouth. Realizes far too late that it doesn’t even fucking matter because the top half of his face is covered by his mask anyway so-…really he can do all the staring he wants. If he-…wanted to, that is…

“You live around here…?”

Sammy the ninja turtle throws him an interested look. “Why?”

It’s not what he expected, to be honest. “I-…uhh…” Lance frowns, hand coming up matter-of-factly, “I dunno… Just tryna hold the conversation, I guess…?”

Something has started around them, everyone sauntering but with a purpose. But Lance can’t keep track of all of it. Not with the way the rum is starting to really hug his brain nice and tight. Or with how the little quirk of the corner of this guy’s mouth is making some very interesting thoughts start to swim around in there.

He’s gotta keep talking. “So how ‘bout these pumpkin Fireball shots, amirite?”

“I-… …sure?”

“Zesty.”

“I guess.”

“Heartburn Central.”

“Man, you really picked the right costume, didn’t you…”

Lance frowns, eyebrows doing some interesting things under his mask because  _excuse him?_ “What the hell does  _that_ –”

But the guy is setting his cup down on the nearby table and then fully facing Lance, coming in quick and heavy and hands reaching up and-… pulling… the rest of his mask… back down over his mouth…

Well then.

(Muffled.) “…you’ve made your point…”

That gets him a grin, more heated than it’s been, and Lance’s pulse doesn’t have time to even out from the last instance before he’s feeling his hand being taken, the guy giving him one last look and then pulling him away.

And whoa. Whoa whoa whoa now, that’s some sudden movement. He’s gotta get his legs used to functioning again, especially with how they’re made to carry him up the stairs behind his new acquaintance, a quick glance back down at the party showing no one else’s interest except his own because he’s-… They’re-…

The random door Sammy the ninja turtle opens is creaky, but there’s no way anyone downstairs can hear it over the music and oh this must be the master bathroom and  _wooo_ Lance’s happy adrenaline is kicking in like nobody’s business, damn.

“You good, Wade?”

Lance snaps back to it, the moonlight that’s streaming in from the window falling over the boy in front of him like some sort of Halloween miracle.

And: “Yeah,” maybe a little out of breath, “Hell yeah, I’m good.”

And it must be all he needs to hear, because then he’s coming in real close again, hands reaching up just like before. Only this time, it’s to roll Lance’s mask up - over his chin…his mouth…his nose… - revealing just enough to-

The air knocks free from Lance’s lungs at the feeling of confident lips slotting easily to his. Not exactly soft. Not exactly smooth. But hot - hands sliding up Lance’s neck as he backs them up against the marble counter, the edge blunt on Lance’s back.

There’s a fall scented plug-in somewhere. It’s one of the two things he can only focus on right now - the warm, cinnamon-y smell of dead leaves, and the warm, Fireball-cinnamon-y taste of this guy’s mouth - his tongue - his lips.

It all flows through Lance and resonates low and-…and oh God…

The kiss breaks away but stays close, hot breath - “What?”

It loosely translates to  _why the fuck are you laughing._  But Lance - he -

“I can’t feel my toes…”

It’s funny. That’s funny right?

“No?” The weight against him gets heavy, one of those hands dropping and disappearing, only to get that heat pooling unfairly at the surprise as it cups Lance’s dick through his suit. “Can you feel _this?”_

Lance clears his throat, pulse following because  _oh alright._  “Y-… Uh yep. Yep I can definitely feel that.”

And he doesn’t get much of a chance to deal before the boy in front of him is kneeling, looking completely comfortable all except for the fingers running over the fabric at Lance’s crotch as he says it. “Okay what-… What’s going on with this shit…”

Lance hurries to help - maybe a little too eager - but holy shit who even cares about that now that he’s got the small hidden zipper and is helping tug it down, just like normal jeans, the top half of his suit staying perfectly closed and-

“Is this why you got this one?” He’s getting a teasing smirk from down there. “So someone can blow you?”

Lance swallows thickly, heart skipping a beat in his chest as his dick gets helped through the created opening of the fabric because: “Actually it was so I could pee but like-…yeah getting head is definitely up there now that _-ohhh okay shutting up now.”_

It’s not even a choice anymore. Not with the way that hot mouth swallows him down without warning and  _definitely_ without hesitation.

And holy shit. Holy shit a cute guy is sucking him off in the upstairs bathroom of a Halloween party - this is just like the movies except for the full bodysuit and the anonymity and the undeniable gay undertones that aren’t really undertones they’re like, full blown gay at this p-

“Hnnn…” Lance’s eyes fall shut, the head bobbing in his lap unrelenting and sending those sparks to where he can’t feel them in his toes.

This guy is good. Almost too good. Definitely too good with how God cursed Lance with drastically short stamina when he’s been drinking.

But he’s gonna tear one of his hands away from where they’re white-knuckling against the edge of the counter so he can thread his fingers through that dark hair. So he can enjoy it while it lasts, the tongue swirling around him so smoothly that it almost doesn’t even feel real. Like…this dude is some mystical Halloween demon who appears and seduces young gentlemen and then sucks their souls out through their dicks and-

“Oh fuck.” He’s got those eyes on him - the ones behind the black fabric. “Oh  _fuck,”_  this crazy-ass demon is gonna get the best of him already, sorry mama - at least he’ll die doing the thing he loves - “Shit, m’gonna c-”

It’s barely a warning. Trips off of Lance’s tongue. Seems to be just fine with the boy on his knees in front of him because when Lance tips over, he swallows that shit down like candy. Watches Lance come. Coaxes the rest out with easy strokes and then makes sure his dick’s nice and clean before getting back to his feet, the back of his hand wiping at the corner of his mouth.

And oh…  _Wooooo boy_  Lance is having a little bit of trouble getting his brain to function.

It’s why he doesn’t fight it when those hands come up again, fingers slipping under the roll of Lance’s mask. But he doesn’t pull it down. On the contrary, this time he goes for the full thing, the cool air of the bathroom hitting Lance’s face for the first time as his mask gets gently pulled off his head.

His hair is probably doing some shit. It’s gotta be. But it must not matter, judging by the interested smirk from the boy in front of him as his eyes trail over Lance’s full face.

“Hm…” he murmurs. “You’re  _way_ hotter than I was imagining.”

Lance lets out his breath. Doesn’t…know if that’s a compliment or not… But they’re still pressed in each other’s space. And his thoughts are starting to align again. And…

He reaches for where the black mask is tied behind his mystery hookup’s head, struggling for just a moment before getting the knot undone and pulling the fabric away.

And…yeah… “Yeah, you’re exactly as hot as I thought you were.”

That gets him a chuckle. Has him licking his lips as he presses against him even more. “Such a way with words, Wade.”

“Lance.”

 _“Lance.”_ And oh, that sparkle of interest in his eyes. “Keith.”

Huh… Keith…

Lance lets out one more breath, smoothing his hands down the back of Keith’s sweatshirt. “Well. Now that we’re formally acquainted I’m gonna ask again. Any chance you live nearby?”

Yes, the reasoning behind it has changed.

No, he doesn’t have to go into detail for the boy in front of him to grin, pointy canines glinting in the moonlight. But not as much as the not so subtle glint of mischief in those eyes as he reaches down for Lance’s hand again.

And yeah.

This guy is definitely a sexy mystical Halloween demon.

Oh well, Lance figures, following him out the door and into the night. There are worse ways to die.


	2. Begging

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **October 2nd**  
>  2\. “People like you have no imagination.”  
>  ~~Ass Worship~~ | **Begging** | ~~Medical play | Watersports~~  
>  _Additional tags: Game of Thrones - esque setting, rebel!lance, capturedprince!keith, bondage, light humiliation, dubious consent due to magical “sex pollen” ___

Lance’s boots crunch down the path of dead leaves as he saunters his way through the hideout in the forest clearing. The group’s morale is still soaring high tonight - shadows cast on the stone walls from those dancing around the fire, celebrating the success of their kidnapping operation several days ago.

He would go join them - absolutely - usually he’s the  _first_ to start the drunken frolicking, it’s just…he’s got an operation of his own under way.

The off-key singing fades to a murmur as Lance nears the latched door hidden behind the stables. He’s familiar with the process - has been one of the few to deal with the captives for a while now - and it doesn’t take much more than the trick-weight against a certain board of the door for it to be creaking open, the person inside greeting the noise with a tired glare.

Lance closes the door after himself, taking his sweet time to amble over to where their prisoner sits against the stake in the grass.

His hands are still bound behind his back by magic -  _Lance’s_ magic. Lance  _was_ the one to set him up in here. And oh, to see a boy of his stature reduced to such a state…

“Well well well… How we doin’, your majesty?”

Lance receives no more than a glare, but that comes as no surprise. The prince had been less than friendly even within the city’s walls. It didn’t matter when it came down to it, though - when it came time to make a statement and sweep him off into the night.

Everyone steals away the same when they’re knocked unconscious.

Lance crosses his arms, leaning back against the wall and giving a quick glance up to the sky. “Left you out in the rain last night, didn’t they?” No response. “That must’ve been fun.”

More silence. Calculated. And in all honesty, Lance isn’t fully sure why he’s even here in the first place - why he isn’t out with the rest of them getting stupid and dancing the night away again. Two nights-worth is enough for him, he guesses. It quickly loses its charm. Its intrigue. Has him setting out to look for it elsewhere. Other places. Other people. People like…

“Don’t think I didn’t notice, by the way…” The small blade from his pocket glistens in the moonlight as he takes it out to mess with as he speaks. “I don’t know what you did, but someone’s either got eyes for you or wants to see you slowly lose your shit.” Oh yes. Lance had sensed it immediately. The very second he stepped foot in front of him. “The lust enchantment,” he confirms. “Either way, it’s bad news for you.”

Bad news, but undeniably interesting to Lance.

Because which one of them cast it? How long have they kept him sitting here waiting?

“Reverse it.”

Lance perks up, blade stilled between his fingers. Ah, so he  _does_ talk. “I know you’d love that.”

_“Reverse it.”_

“Can’t.”

“Why not.”

“Not my magic.” Lance tilts his head, eyeing the sweat on the prince’s brow as it glistens in the light - out of place in the autumn breeze. “But I don’t know if I’d want to anyway with how pitiful and tasty you look.”

It’s only fact. He certainly paints an appealing picture before him, his once pristine white shirt ripped nearly all the way down the middle from the initial struggle. Knees dirty with grass stains and mud from where Lance had forced him to kneel. He is, without a doubt, a sight to be seen. Definitely tempting. Absolutely inviting, those eyes flashing with something at the sudden shift in Lance’s demeanor.

“Hm…” his saunter from the wall toward the captive is slow and teasing. “Must be driving you  _crazy,_  waiting here for days. Nothing to do but think about how hard you are… How badly you need to get off…” His prey doesn’t break eye contact even once, head tilting up in defiance even as Lance comes to a stop right in front of him, smile amused. “Can’t even touch yourself with your hands bound like that, huh?”

He doesn’t get an answer. Only a glare with much more than just aggravation packed behind it.

It fuels Lance like none other. “Poor thing…” he coos, then drops to crouch close, smirk terrible as his voice drops hushed as well, eyes taking in the hardness pressed inside his prisoner’s pants, then dancing back up to his as he says it. “Someone would have to do it  _for_ you, wouldn’t they…”

The prince swallows thickly, adam’s apple tempting as it bobs in his throat. But he stays silent. Stays defiant. And Lance can see the magic at work up close now. How it blows his pupils wide. Has his breath hot as it leaves his mouth. And-

“Uh oh,” speaking of, “someone must’ve been misbehaving.” It’s clear, Lance reaching forward to gently grab hold of the prince’s jaw, tilting it so he can better see the split lip that wasn’t there when he had bound him the first night. “I’m not sure you even deserve the help. Although it would definitely be easy.”

There’s a rise in the laughter from the celebration. It only stokes Lance’s scheming. Especially when he gets the hook.

“What…what do you mean…“

A huff of a laugh. “I swear… People like you have no imagination,” he murmurs, pleased when the prince’s jaw flexes under his fingers with a little bit of pressure. “No one would even notice you were gone.” More pressure. More contact. “You could fuck me like you’ve been needing so badly.”

He’s got him. Right under his thumb. Doesn’t even need magic to entice him.

“But of course,” Lance drops his hand, but the attention on him stays as he moves away, “you would have to ask me nicely.”

Another swell of far off laughter, Lance’s back to him as he makes his way toward the middle of the space. He’d love to see the look on his prisoner’s face, but he’s already having so much fun it almost isn’t necessary.

The silence is deafening, but Lance knows there’s a storm brewing in the boy’s head behind him.

And maybe he just needs a little prodding.

“You do wanna get off, right?”

Some shifting. More silence. Then, mumbled. “…yes…”

Of course. “Then use the magic word.”

He’s drawing it out of him. Coaxing it. Slowly…

“…please.”

“Please?” And it’s just too amusing. “Please what, your highness…?”

Lance turns, finally giving in and too eager to watch the prince embarrass himself for the sole purpose of getting it in.

And oh…that pretty pretty shade of red… “Please…” fuck, it’s gorgeous, “…let me go…so I can fuck you…”

Lance’s grin is devilish, heat spreading in his own chest from the thrill of it. He just can’t help but play a little longer. “I’m sorry, so you can  _what?”_

And it’s far from a mystery to the boy bound in front of him, his brows furrowing in frustration as his strangled tone grows heavy. He knows what Lance is doing. “I want-…” They both do. “Let me fuck you. …please…”

And Lance supposes that’ll do. For now. As much as he’s enjoying the show, there’s no doubt in his mind that the next act will be far more entertaining.

The atmosphere around the prince bends as Lance swishes his pointer finger, the magic binding his wrists separating and leading them apart only to rejoin in front of him. But he’s free from the stake. And that alone seems to be enough to stoke the prince’s confidence, even as Lance approaches him with a hushed, “C’mon.”

The sneak over to the stronghold is as laughably easy as Lance thought it’d be, everyone too blitzed out of their minds to notice any change. The two of them are behind Lance’s bedroom door before he knows it, tucked away and alone again and wow, the lustful energy coming off of the prince is almost maddening.

“Unbind me.” He gets right to the point. Advances toward Lance with an intense step but-

“Hmmmm nope,” is Lance’s decision, one finger held to his lips in thought, the other twisting again in the air and bidding the concentrated magic to pull his captive back by the wrists, the boy presented with no other option but to follow after until he’s being flung onto the bed, arms stretched above him and out of the way. “Yeah, that’s better.”

Another tempting sight. One Lance never thought he’d see for as long as he lived. Royal blood, laid out on his bed, squirming just the slightest against the restraints but otherwise eager to fuck someone like Lance. Someone lowly. A rebel.

Lance approaches the bed, shirt already pulled over his head and working at the drawstrings of his pants. “I wonder what the rest of the court would think if they saw you here, your majesty…” He knows he can hear him. Knows enchantments like these can be overwhelming, but also can’t miss the blush running down the prince’s neck to where he rips the last shred of fabric clean open. “What do you think they’d say about you…?”

Shirt now torn apart, the last thing to go are his pants, Lance’s fingers untying the strings like he had his own, then pulling down and down and down until the prince’s cock springs back against his stomach.

He’s hard. Ridiculously hard.

“Hm…that looks painful,” Lance supposes nonchalantly. But that’s it. No more attention than that, the rest reserved for the bottle of oil he plucks from his table. “You know, I’ve never fucked royalty before…”

He’s got those eyes trained on him, watching his every move. The tilt of the glass bottle. The slow pour of the oil. The way Lance arches his back as he starts to open himself up in front of him.

The candle Lance lit keeps it all in a warm, heavy glow, arousal swirling quickly for him as well. It’s only a few short minutes of putting on a show before he’s ready for that act two. “I’m doing you a favor though. You know that, right, your highness?”

He doesn’t get a nod. Or any sort of affirmation. Just eyes, trailing down his body.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he grins. And when he reaches over to place the oil back on the table, he says, “So then you also know that you’re gonna have to ask nicely for it again.”

The growl from the boy below him is one of frustration.  _True_ frustration. The frustration of relief dangling in front of him but still maddeningly just out of reach.

And oh, is it music to Lance’s ears. “It’s up to you how long it takes, you know. All it could take is one time. Just one, really  _really_ good time.”

His reasoning seems to fall on deaf ears, pleading not hardwired into the brains of royalty. But then his common sense must kick in. An odd, skewed sense of self preservation. Because the prince is closing his eyes…a long, heavy breath escaping through his nose…and…

“I’m-…” He’s doing it… “Please…  _…please_  fuck me…” tone borderline desperate… “…I’m fucking  _begging you…”_

It sends a shiver up Lance’s spine. Has that arousal pooling without even a touch. And yes, he’ll admit it. He could definitely get off to this all by itself. But…

Lance grins, “See? Was that so hard?” And he doesn’t even wait for a frustrated huff because then he’s crawling over - he’s lining himself up - he’s sinking down onto the prince’s full cock, bottom lip bitten as he’s stretched and filled.

And oh… The look on the prince’s face.

_“Fuck…”_

“Mm…” Lance starts up a little bounce, peering down at him and eating up all those little tells. “Whoever’s getting this dick in the castle is one lucky person…”

Because damn, does he fill Lance up nicely, hips moving beneath him and probably on their own. Chasing after the friction. Chasing after the heat. The same heat that floods Lance from the top down. It’s almost frantic. Clearly fueled by the enchantment. And Lance is ready to ride that shit out.

“Mm-mm-mm,” it’s all so delectable. The intensity. The struggle of the prince’s wrists against the binding, unable to touch. The quickness of his stomach muscles tensing, not much needed to push him over after being ready for days. There’s something about the desperateness of it all that turns Lance’s grin downright sinful, hopping off to stroke him through the last few moments and watch his come stripe across his abs.

He’s gotta hum a little laugh. A tease. Has to watch him lie there, sweaty and blushed red and breathing heavily. “Wow… Wait ‘til it gets out how short you last before coming.”

He’s not sure if he even hears him, but it doesn’t matter. That one was for Lance. A little payback for all the shit the royal family talks about the rebels. And anyway, he’s getting pretty close himself with all this beauty to take in. Especially the dawning realization happening below him that he’s still hard where he lays.

Again…another chuckle - “What…” - hand still jerking himself off - “You thought the enchantment would be gone just because you came?” It’s laughable. Almost makes him pity the prince. Almost. “Not how it works, your majesty.”  

_Almost._ If it wasn’t getting him off even faster - that pained realization - the hands twisting against magic - his cock twitching as Lance’s breath hitches, and then he brings himself off, coming all over the prince below him.

It’s a beautiful sight, in a string of beautiful sights. And Lance takes a moment to sit back in the afterglow, memorizing it with heavy eyelids and a crooked grin.

And…

“Looks like you’re mine for a while…”

More dawning realization, this time quick, almost frantic, following Lance as he gets up and throws his clothes back on and heads toward the door.

And - “Wait-”

But, “Catch you later, your highness,” he hums, running a hand through his hair, “Be good.”

And then he’s shutting the door behind himself.

And he’s doing a quick spell to lock it.

And then he’s heading for the bonfire, visions dancing in his head of what he has waiting in his bed for him when he gets back.


	3. Temperature Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **October 3rd**  
>  3\. “How can I trust you?”  
>  ~~Sensory Deprivation~~ | **Temperature Play** | ~~Edgeplay | Knife Play~~  
>  _Additional tags: Lance uses ice on Keith_

Keith is in heaven.

Cool, glorious, icy heaven.

The cabin they rented for autumn is cozy, everything wrapped up tighter than how the two of them like to sit in front of the fireplace. Now that the sun is setting, all the candles have been lit and placed around them in the bedroom.

And Keith is in heaven.

“Mm…” It’s in anticipation, the cube of ice plucked from the small bowl on the nightstand and held sweetly between Lance’s lips.

Keith already knows what he’s got in mind for it - for  _him._

Lance grins, eyelids heavy as he leans down to Keith’s chest - the shock of cold - lips - ice - slowly circling around his nipple like a game. Giving just enough attention to make Keith’s mouth drop open before moving across to the other one.

It’s a mesmerizing sight…the slow drag…the melting ice on his heated skin…the way it sends waves of a very distinct kind of pleasure as the bud peaks from the cold. He knows Lance doesn’t mind him watching. Knows Lance knows watching, in itself, is a huge part of what he gets out of it and embraces it… Lets the ice cube slip away into his hand… Purses his lips to blow a cool breath that chills the wetness left on the other nipple and then comes back to bring this one into his mouth with a gentle slurp.

Keith’s toes curl in the blankets, hands grabbing for the small of his boyfriend’s back and pulling him down against him.

“Fuck babe…”

Lance’s body weight is to die for - addicting - even as it moves away after a quick kiss to Keith’s breastbone.

And when they return - those lips - they’re chilled between ice again, the almost-sting trailing down Keith’s stomach…over his abdomen…tensing both the muscles beneath its path and the muscles to come in anticipation. It could be maddening if it was the first time.  _Was_ maddening the first time. But Lance knows what he’s doing, maybe even a little too well, the ice drawn in a slow zigzag over Keith’s happy trail before disappearing entirely.

Keith swallows. As patient as his body lets him be.

The path of the melted ice on his skin catches the flicker of the candle on the nightstand. The one that left that pretty red wax melted on Lance’s chest and the insides of his thighs. It’s easier to see with how he leans closer to reach into the other bowl next to it, ice chips clinking against the sides.

And then he’s back.

And he’s patting something dry.

And when he holds it to his inner elbow to check the temperature, Keith can finally see it. The long, glass toy. Cloudy with the freeze it’s kept. 

Keith’s favorite.

“You still good, baby?” Lance smiles when he asks it, as sweet as every other time. “Want me to stop?”

But the anticipation keyed up in Keith’s body has him sliding into a sarcastic tease. “Ohhh no - you’re gonna fuck me with my favorite toy. How can I trust you?”

Lance’s smile turns into a defeated but still amused one the very second the first word leaves Keith’s lips. “Yeah yeah…” he hums, rolling his eyes. Then, as he repositions in front of Keith’s bent legs: “You know I’m never gonna stop asking you…”

Keith can’t help the grin, even if it is a little cheesy. And before he can slip anymore teasing in, the head of the toy presses snugly against his entrance, cool and slick and  _oh…the feeling of it sliding in fully…refreshingly chilly inside his heat…_

Keith’s died and gone to heaven.


	4. Mirror Sex - Praise Kink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **October 4th**  
>  4\. “Will that be all?”  
>  ~~Spanking~~ | **Mirror Sex** | ~~Spit-roasting | Dacryphilia (Crying)~~  
>  _Additional Tags: secret husband mob boss au, praise kink for lance_

It’s their routine - not frequent, but executed with precision the moment it’s needed.

The operation didn’t go as planned tonight - no fault of Lance’s, but instead a breakdown in communication between their Inside Man and their Hacker. It doesn’t matter where the fault lies. When it comes down to it, the place wasn’t looted and Lance is left with that rare sour taste in his mouth. Unfulfilled. A dissatisfaction that Keith knows he’s taking to heart, despite the carefully constructed facades they keep up in front of the family.

Because Keith knows Lance. Has learned the tells his husband shows without realizing. But most of all, he knows exactly how to make him remember just how important he is.

“God you’re beautiful…”

Lance’s hands frame the floor-length mirror that Keith’s got him nearly pressed against, the long planes of his naked body reflected back at them as Keith keeps an easy, leisurely roll of his hips up into him.

It had been an easy hook, Keith asking his partner into the office for some sort of trivial question. It had Lance uninterested, giving some bullshit answer and a blasé “Will that be all?” before Keith swooped in.

The office door is locked now - their crisp, pressed suits forgotten on the tile - the lights dimmed around the room so all they have to focus on is Lance and his cunning and his beauty. And speaking of which…

“Do you even know how attractive you were putting those grunts in their place today…? I swear you’re so gorgeous when you get like that.”

Lance hums, watching in the mirror as he tilts his head to bare his neck for his husband. It’s working already. Like clockwork. And really, who is Keith to deny such an open request?

Lance’s skin is as soft and smooth as ever under his lips. It’s Keith’s favorite part of him - his sweet, elegant neck - how easily he exposes it and himself and lets Keith pamper him. They haven’t had nearly enough time alone lately for such a treat. And Keith does so very much enjoy pampering his partner in crime. So much so, that-

“Ah…” a gasp - mouth dropping as the man behind him sinks his teeth into his neck. “Baby, come on…”

It’s got Keith grinning, “What?” mischief swirling as their eyes meet in the reflection, “They’re not gonna know it’s me…” It’s been what, three years now? And they still have no idea their bosses are married and the literal epitome of ride or die for each other. Stupid. “Besides…” he slides his hands from Lance’s waist, snaking them slowly up his stomach, lips still pressed to the delicate skin of his neck, “…you know I just wanna give you the attention you deserve…”

Lance seems to accept that reasoning, if the way the corner of his mouth quirks up in a lazy smile is any indication. “I know…”

Keith follows suit. Laps his tongue over the indentations from his teeth. Starts to roll his hips with a bit more urgency and revels in the way Lance’s breath hitches from it. “Plus,” and he’s just going to be honest here, “I like the way it makes your cock jump like that.”

Another hum from Lance, coaxed from the friction, but not enough to hinder his lazy argument. “You’re full of shit…”

“Am I?”

“Mhm.”

“Interesting…” It’s bait and Keith takes it willingly, going back to suck lightly at the crook of Lance’s neck and then sink his teeth in again, both their gazes dropped to the reflection where Lance’s hard cock does indeed jump a little from the sensation.

Just like Keith said.

Just like they both already knew.

Lance brings his attention back to his husband, heavy eyes meeting once again in the mirror. “You like that…?”

Keith smirks. “Mhm. Makes me wanna bounce on it.”

Lance wets his bottom lip and brings it in, his hand coming up to reach around and tangle in the back of Keith’s hair with another grin. “Mm, finish fucking me first.”

And really, it’s as if that’s supposed to be a chore or something.

“Oh,” Keith’s chuckle is heated, his grip already steadying back onto his husband’s waist in preparation, “It’ll be my pleasure…”


	5. Shotgunning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **October 5th**   
>  5\. “Take what you need.”  
>  ~~Feet | Sadism/Masochism | Feederism~~ | **Shotgunning**  
>  _Additional tags: joint smoking, high school buddies klance_

The fall festival is in full swing on the other side of the pumpkin patch that Keith and Lance have stolen themselves away behind. And…to be fair…it’s not really a patch, so much as a  _literal pile of pumpkins,_  already picked and artfully arranged for families to come pick from.  

Keith spots it as the perfect place to toke up, and Lance has never really sought fit to turn any of his good buddy’s ideas down, so that’s how they end up behind the towering pile of plump orange pumpkins, crouched comfortably on the wooden makeshift perimeter, sort of on the lookout for approaching steps but mostly focused on the hazy warmth.

The joint passes easily between them. Keith had sparked it, pulled behind his cupped hand until it flowed. Handed it over to Lance. But that was a little while ago, and the little giddy bubble of rebellion has evened out into cool bliss.

“Ohh…” Lance is peering lazily up into the gray autumn sky, “Did I spend all my money yet…?” Because all the smells of the harvest and the food and the  _everything_ are both enough to cover the tinge of weed and to spark his interest in the apple cider donut stand a little bit away. “I’d-… I’d kill…for a fuckin’ churro, dude…”

He meant to say donut.

It’s cool - it’s whatever.

“I think I got some…” Keith’s not hazy-eyed yet, always cool as a churro on the outside, regardless of how completely stoned he may or may not be. Lance is kinda jealous. And kinda not. Because he’s almost sure it’s just his friend’s natural aura to be cool and collected and pretty all the–

Wait… 

Did he say churro again?

Fuck, maybe he actually just wants a churro and not the donut…

“Know what we should do…?” Keith’s definitely slow with it - with his words.

He’s feeling it.

“What.”

“We should uh…” Thought lost for a moment. He takes a hit, the wind catching the tip and burning the paper back faster. When he exhales, it’s through pursed lips, the smoke concentrated into a sharp stream that Lance can’t take his eyes off of until he’s talking again. “We should go back through the haunted house…”

The haunted-… Lance raises an eyebrow. “Dude…”

“We should-”

“That’d fuck with us so hard, Keith.”

“Exactly,” he’s smiling, distracting mouth again, “That’s the fuckin’ point.”

“No.”

“C’mon.”

_“No-”_

“C’ _mooon-”_

“Listen, you can fuck around in there with all the lights ‘n shit ‘n poppy-outty stuff but you’re gonna die.” He’s being watched, that smile slowly but surely turning into a teasing one as Lance says his peace. “Ima be at the churro stand though. When they drag your stupid ass outta there.”

He seals it with a hit, attention drawn back to the sky. Stumbling around in a fucking haunted house high as shit? No fucking thank you.

Behind them, a child screams bloody murder - no doubt from the life-sized scarecrow decoration that lurches forward when someone steps too close. It’s the perfect omen. Confirms Lance’s point. …somehow…

He adjusts his beanie and turns his head to voice his thoughts - to make his point totally and absolutely concrete - but Keith’s already looking at him.  _…has…been…?_  Looks completely at ease in the way that his gaze lingers on him.

Lance ignores the flip of his heart in his chest. Just like every other time. “What.”

Except Keith seems to be in a lazy trance. “…mm?”

And… “You’re staring at me.”

It’s what it takes for his friend to blink - to come back to the here and now, a little noise in the back of his throat like he’s realizing what he’s doing. But then, cool as a cucumber again, “Nothing.” and he’s taking the joint back, keeping it still between his fingers as his gaze pans out to the actual pumpkin patch in front of them.

Lance joins him… Likes when his heart gets all fluttery like this, but not when he isn’t sober… Not when he doesn’t have as much control over what his mouth decides to spout out…

A gentle breeze, wafting the smell of freshly popped caramel corn toward their secret place…

“So I saw Romelle do this thing the last time we were smoking at Allura’s…” Keith’s voice seems far closer than it should be, but Lance isn’t complaining. “Kinda wanted to try it sometime.” On the contrary, he’s hanging onto every word. “You like…take a hit and then kinda…blow the smoke into the other person’s mouth. Looked pretty cool, so I guess I wanna tr-”

“Okay.”

Keith glances over, eyes zeroing in on him.

And shit, Lance really could’ve given him a few more seconds, but-

“Okay?” Keith’s confirming.

To which Lance simply nods. For fear of opening his mouth.

And apparently it’s amusing in some way because Keith’s eyes are lighting up a little bit, the ghost of a smile dancing over his lips, “Uh… Okay cool… Just…take what you need…” and Lance starts losing a little bit of time.

He steps out of his body and watches himself watch Keith take a pull, the tip glowing red and orange, and then he’s right back in himself - feeling the hold Keith gets on one of the sides of his open jacket - feeling the gentle tug toward him, space thinning - feeling the air thinning too as Keith’s face comes close, lips parted and Lance’s lips parted and he takes in what Keith lets go - breathes it all into his lungs - holds it there for a second and then lets it lazily escape from his mouth up through the small space between them.

He’d be surprised how well it worked for their first time if he could think. If he could focus on any other little thing besides the fact that he isn’t leaning back. And Keith isn’t leaning back. And they’re still staring at each other’s mouths, the smoke long gone by now.

Lance blinks…

…slowly, just as Keith does, lets his gaze drift upward until their eyes meet…

And…

It’s very quick. Tentative. Their lips brushing together for the briefest of moments because what if-…

What if it’s not-…

Keith’s eyes flick up to Lance’s again, searching, no longer cool as a cucumber, and Lance just wants to-

Keith pushes forward, gentle but hesitation dissolved into the gray autumn sky with the rest of the smoke - with Lance’s heart - soaring high - because he’s kissing back. And his lips are warm and soft like the hand that comes up to pull Lance closer along the wooden perimeter by the waist. And-…

And  _fuck._

Fuck, this is really  _happening._

Lance’s eyes have fallen closed, but that doesn’t mean he can’t feel for himself, his own hands pulling at Keith’s jacket as his tongue passes over his - sends a shiver down his spine - fills his entire chest up with warm gooey caramel because he’s been waiting so long for this. Never thought it was actually in the cards. And maybe that’s what’s making his heart light up like this now that it  _is_  happening, but who cares?

He’s kissing Keith.

Keith is kissing him.

And when they part, a little winded in all honesty, their eyes are locking again, as if one last affirmation that this is all real.

It is. It is real. And Lance can’t help the giddy little laugh that bubbles up from his chest, more than likely aided by the joint still perched in Keith’s fingers.

But Keith’s smiling too. A genuine, heart stopping smile that makes Lance want to pull him back in again and get right back to it. Only he doesn’t. Because they have to take a second to breathe. And to just appreciate. And it doesn’t help that a man with a festival name-tag is rounding the corner, whatever he says kicking them both into high gear off into the pumpkin patch.

Their once glorious hiding spot disappears into the horizon with the rest of the festivities.

But it hardly matters when it means Lance is running hand in hand with Keith, their laughter ringing high up into the autumn sky.

 


	6. Biting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **October 6th**  
>  6\. “I heard enough, this ends now.”  
>  ~~Daddy | Corset | Cock Worship~~ | **Biting**  
>  _Additional tags: vampire!keith/vampirehunter!lance, minor dubcon bc vampire magic, blood_

Lance is a prodigy. The finest young vampire hunter of his age. Successful in learning and tracking and capturing his target every single time.

Except for Keith.

But Keith isn’t like the other vampires. There’s no… _innate evil energy_  coursing through his body like the others. When he moves around, it’s with little care for secrecy. And if Lance had a dime for every time he left a corpse lying around after drinking, well…let’s just say he could afford some better silver pistols.

No, Keith is definitely a strange case. The strangest bit of all? How he knows Lance is coming the night he plans to seal the deal. It’s almost as if Lance hasn’t been the only one tracking - the only one learning routines. Because Keith is  _waiting_ for him. Cloaked. Dead silent under Lance’s crunching boots. And…

Lance isn’t startled often in his profession, but there’s something about the energy ebbing close as his prey materializes behind him that sets his blood running cold. And suddenly, Lance isn’t so sure that he’s still the hunter.

The fight is a game - a fucking  _game_  - Lance’s pistols firing off into empty space as his target dissolves into black smoke, only to reappear behind him. Frustration is quick to kick in, as well as the realization that he had somewhere along the way fallen prey to the nonchalant way Keith had carried himself. He expected too little. Underestimated him. And it’ll surely be his downfall now as a slash of sharp nails pierces through the air, Lance’s skin sliced deep just below his cheekbone.

Only a moment more - another breath - and the air knocks clean from his lungs as his back slams roughly against one of the trees. It takes a second to orient himself, eyes blinking and air finally rushing back into his lungs, but only until he feels it - the cold, ebbing energy materializing in front of him and keeping him pinned without so much as a finger on him.

Lance heaves a single cough, the shiver that runs down his spine as Keith moves in close not of fear, but of something worse. The same something he felt nearly two weeks ago, when he was tracking a kill and had met Keith’s eyes for the first time from his hiding spot.

“You’re-…” he grits out a grin, foolhardy as it may be, “You’re not as much of a total disaster as I thought you were…” The energy is concentrated at his forearms and shins, keeping them pressed to the tree with little effort. “Still not that great though…”

It’s the closest he’s ever been to him. To  _Keith._  This close he can see the distinct lack of soul in his eyes. The sunken, darkened skin beneath them and under his cheekbones. The paleness of his lips, mystifying as he says: “And you’re a terrible tracker.”

His tone is droning. Literally dead. So why does hearing it for the first time light up a fire deep in Lance’s belly?

He shifts against the energy, grin still cocky even as his eyes land on his pistols glinting in the leaves further out. Much too far away. “You’re lookin’ at the best in the village.”

“Really…” Keith’s eyebrow raises, unimpressed as he takes a step closer. “Because all I see right now is dinner.”

Lance’s heart spikes in his chest, but he wills himself not to show it. Not to let slip that the fire in his belly is raging on as Keith draws a breath away. “Shouldn’t we pray first?”

But his joke goes unanswered - unheard, because right then Keith is reaching up, the pads of his fingers chilled against Lance’s sweaty skin. And if he were really as good as he said he was, Lance wouldn’t close his eyes. But he does. He does, for some reason. And he braces himself as Keith leans forward to lick, starting at the base of Lance’s throat and following up the trail of blood that’s dripped past his jawline until he reaches the cut on his cheekbone.

Lance’s heart stutters like mad in his chest - has him facing the true danger he finds himself in - is just enough to mask the curl of arousal blooming a little lower because-…

Oh God…

“You’re sweet,” Keith notes distantly - maybe even to himself. And that’s just fine because Lance is right in the middle of having a moment. “Sweet and red…”

There are a lot of ways to take that. So, so many ways. And Lance has got to remember his job, even if he’s literally been swept off his feet by a-…by this-…

“You always sweet-talk your meals like this?” he goes for it - goes for one more struggle against his hold, “Or is this just for me?”

His question has Keith silent, blinking through slightly narrowed eyes as if he’s trying to understand. And for a moment, Lance has an inkling that things might be looking up. But then, “I’ve heard enough,” Keith’s moving forward again. Grabbing Lance’s jaw again. Using it to tilt Lance’s head to the side for better access and- “This ends now.”

The sound of teeth breaking through Lance’s skin is a sound he’ll never forget - along with the sting of the pierce and the warm rush of blood pooling to the surface and the-…the confidence with which Keith latches onto his neck.

Lance swallows thickly, eyes squeezed shut but pulse hammering away in his chest and his wrists and the pulse point in his neck as Keith sucks. As he laps his tongue over his skin. As he feeds freely.

Lance’s toes curl in his boots at the feeling. At the rush. At the…thrill…?

Because even in the deepest darkest parts of him he’ll never admit it. He’ll never cave and accept that if Keith were a normal person…if he were still human…maybe…

The light pressure as he sucks at the punctures sends more shivers down Lance’s spine. Has heat pooling rapidly and unapologetically downward. Has his mouth dropping open, breath coming not so much quickly now as it is heavily because  _fuck,_  is this supposed to be as arousing as it is…?

He just needs it to stop. Needs Keith to get his fill and move along and then Lance will come back to his senses.

Except, Keith does just that. He gives one last lick and then steps back again, breath metallic and sharp and oddly mystifying as he runs his tongue over his fangs and then sucks his bottom lip in to get the rest.

And now is the part where Lance is supposed to be coming to his senses. Now is when he’s supposed to be happy that he’s not being fed on anymore. It’s the next step. So why is the creeping sense of disappointment starting to bloom in his chest?

“You may be a terrible hunter,” Keith murmurs, reaching out to straighten Lance’s overcoat, “But you’re the most delicious thing I’ve tasted in centuries.”

Lance bites his lip. Doesn’t dare open his mouth. Even as Keith reaches the end to tug the hem of his coat smooth, eyes catching on the bulge in Lance’s pants a little further down.

Don’t say anything.

Just don’t say anything.

Don’t fucking say anything.

Lance freezes as Keith’s eyes draw back up to his. Keeps the eye contact up until the point that he can’t anymore.

Because Keith’s grinning - a small, knowing grin that Lance won’t ever be able to shake as he says it, “See you soon,” and de-materializes into a black mist in front of him.

Lance stumbles forward, the magic disappearing with its wielder. He brings his wrists up to see the completely unmarked skin. Reaches to brush his fingers over the bite marks on his neck.

Looks up into the sky, where the moon is beginning to reappear from behind gray clouds as it echoes faintly in his brain.

_See you soon._

 


	7. Body Swap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **October 7th**  
>  ~~Praise-kink~~ | **Body Swap** | ~~Aphrodisiacs | Incest~~  
>  _Additional tags: masturbation, keith and lance switch bodies and lance can’t help himself so i suppose dubcon for that_

No one is who they should be.

Shiro is Hunk. Hunk is Pidge. Pidge is Allura. Allura is Shiro. And…well…

When this witch cursed them to switch bodies, she didn’t exactly distribute her intentions evenly. Because if she did, Lance wouldn’t be stuck in Keith’s body. And Keith wouldn’t be stuck in Lance’s body. And everyone would be able to handle everything much much better because  _ahhh._

And okay,  _yes,_  the very first thing Lance does in Keith’s body is perhaps intentionally rattle off a fiery string of nonsense in Spanish just to see Keith’s reaction - err, well… _Lance’s_  reaction because it’s on Lance’s face. And it’s in Lance’s voice, the _“Shut the fuck up, Lance!”_ \- but he’s heard that enough in his own brain that he can pick out the differences between himself and Keith violently protesting his voice to be used for things he doesn’t understand, and  _“He could be saying stupid shit, Shiro!”_  who is actually Allura and blah blah blah.

But anyway… So that was this morning. And by now he’s tired. And Hunk who’s Pidge is tired. And Shiro who’s Hunk is tired. And they all crankily agree to go back to their rooms and just sleep it off and hope to God that this all wears off by the morning.

Lance has to admit, Keith’s body isn’t that much different than his, but he carries his weight differently - more in his shoulders and chest - almost makes him feel top-heavy as he moves around his room getting ready for the night.

He skips his skincare routine. Almost doesn’t. But then does because what’s the point in wasting face cream on a face that isn’t his? Even if it would be a little pampering for Keith. Because he knows that boy’s not doing any pampering for himself all on his own.

You know what, never mind. He  _is_  gonna do the skincare routine.

Lance lets out a sigh that isn’t his, his body weight landing harder on his mattress as he spreads his bottles out and gets to work.

He’s a good friend. No one else is treating their borrowed body to an elaborate moisturizing cream.  _Bet._  But it’s fine. Lance almost feels a little proud to be sharing. Even if it’s weird to see Keith’s face in the mirror as he does it. Weird to trace his fingers along Keith’s cheekbones and over his jawline to spread it in. Weird to see Keith squint, just barely quickly enough to block the moisturizer that gets too close to his eye. It’s almost cute.

But that’s just because Lance is cute.

“Thank you Lance,” he says under his breath, continuing to rub the cream against his cheeks and ignoring the surprising spark of interest in his chest as he hears Keith’s voice in his bedroom. “You’re so nice to me. I don’t deserve a friend like you.”

The bottles clink against each other as he screws the last cap on. And alright. Yeah. He can’t pass up this opportunity.

“Ohh Lance!” he has Keith say, shoving up from the bed with a flourish and putting a dramatic back of his hand to his forehead. “You’re so much cooler than me. I wish you could teach me to be as cool and handsome and funny as you, but I’m too shy.”

It’s surreal, seeing Keith strike the pose in the mirror. Hearing him talk like that. Surreal and unbelievable. Because when would Keith  _ever…_

So…

“I’m Keith…” he says under his breath, turning to pull the hem of Keith’s shirt over his head and toss it on the bed without looking in the mirror - “I don’t wanna-” or at least, until it catches his eye.

Lance steps closer to the reflection, Keith’s fingers trailing over the dark scar tissue just beneath his bottom left rib. What the hell happened there…? Why didn’t…he say anything about it…?

Whatever, it’s not his business. He shouldn’t be looking anyway - should stop touching it - should stop touching entirely instead of letting the pads of his fingers drift over to the definition of his ab muscles. But holy shit, when did Keith get a six pack? Totally not fair.

Lance frowns -  _Keith frowns_  - keeps his hands moving over his pecs and his tense shoulders and then back down over his abs again because-

_“Damn…”_

Lance blinks in surprise, unable to ignore that spark of interest this time. Not with how curious it is hearing Keith speak like that…lowly…in awe maybe…

He tries is again, slower this time, “…damn…” likes the way it pulls invitingly at his chest,  _“…damn_  baby…” gets a hand over his mouth for that last one because  _whoooa._  Whoa okay-… That was…

Lance takes a step back. Has to re-evaluate several things at once.

He probably shouldn’t be saying shit like this. No matter how technically low key it is. Like…Christ, he could be saying some truly nasty shit like-

Okay no. He’s not gonna think it because then he’s gonna wanna say it out loud and he’s already being weird in a body that isn’t his own so-…so  _no._

Lance steps back. Takes a seat at the end of his bed. Finds himself running his fingers over the scar tissue under Keith’s ribs but can’t force himself to look away from the mirror. Because he’s always been kinda handsome…Keith…it’s just… He’s never seen him in this light. Without his three hundred walls up. And there’s something about him now, relaxed and shirtless on Lance’s bed in the dim light…

Lance slowly lets his fingers spread again… Slowly lets them touch and explore and appreciate… Every dip… Every scar… Everything that is distinctly Keith.

And it’s pooling. He knows it’s fucked up, but it’s pooling all nice and warm and pleasantly where he’s specifically trying not to touch - to not even look at. But it’s inevitable. Because he may have Keith’s body, but he’s still got Lance’s self control. And as weird as it is, he can’t help it. Can’t fight the curiosity. Can’t stop his hand from trailing downward, slowly past Keith’s belly button and over his happy trail and-…and oh God…

“Fuck…” he hears Keith say.

And it’s all downhill from there.

A slippery slope.

Starts as just a curious rub, but is stoked by the situation and the friction and the very interesting way Keith’s breath grows heavy in his ears. Because it’s not out-of-breath heavy. It’s intimate. It’s panting. It’s Keith, cupping himself and then growing bold enough to slide his hand under his waistband and into his pants and give a good-

_“Mm…”_  he almost whines. And it’s so much that Lance can’t possibly think about stopping now. Not when he’s got his hand in Keith’s pants - Keith’s hand in his pants - no longer hesitant and jerking him off and- “Fuck, oh my god…”

It’s so fucked up. It’s so fucked up and Lance just _does not care_  because Keith looks surprisingly hot like this, face blushing red and eyelids gone heavy as he stares into the mirror, hand still working underneath.

And shit, Lance wants to hear more. Wants to hear it all. Doesn’t hold back this time as a well timed stroke has his head tipping back a little, lips parting and the most obscene noise he’s ever heard dripping from Keith like one of the seven deadly sins themselves.

And holy shit. Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit-

“Fuck,” he’s pulling himself out now, that last shred of respect keeping him from letting his eyes wander because he’ll jack off Keith’s dick but he won’t look at it and that’s  _something_ he guesses but, “Mm,” it’s so good. So hot. And, “Fuck,” it slips out, “Fuck, Lance…”

Slips out even if Lance purposely said it to purposely hear Keith say it but-

“Fuck Lance,” he can’t stop now, rhythm quick, “Fuck-… Fuck… Fuck, Lance…  _Fuck me Lance…”_

Chasing. Chasing chasing chasing. Keith panting and moaning and heat spreading everywhere and-

_“Fuck me Lance,”_  he’s close. He’s close he’s close he’s close,  _“Lance-”_

It hits him like a truck, Keith’s cum painting thickly across his chest and everything sort of flipping upside down and then right side up again and Lance collapses backwards onto his mattress. Spinning. A shockwave. And then…

…

And then reality…slowly starting to seep back in…

And he barely gets any time to start processing before the knock on his door sends his pulse spiraling - the knock and his own voice muffled behind it.

_“Open up.”_

Lance sits up so fast he gets a head-rush, but all he can focus on is Keith’s reflection, hair messy and cock still out and cum dripping slowly down his chest.

“Fuck.”

But at least he did the skincare routine.

 


	8. Hate-Fucking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **October 8th**  
>  8\. “I know you do.”  
>  ~~Blood/Gore | Prostitution/Sex Work | Fisting~~ | **Hate-fucking/Angry Sex**  
>  _Additional Tags: garrison era, keith and lance hook up in random places to relieve stress caused by the other person_

It shouldn’t be like this. Keith shouldn’t be in this supplies closet, teeth grit and hips working in an angry dry hump. And he definitely shouldn’t be in the supplies closet dry humping Lance McClain.

But here he is. Here  _they_ are, still in their uniforms and panting like idiots and rubbing against each other in the dark and really it’s just so they can get off. It doesn’t have to be Lance. It doesn’t have to be Keith. Or at least, he doesn’t think so. But he  _does_ always feel the need to scratch the itch whenever Lance opens his stupid fucking mouth. Which is…

Well it’s often. It’s constant. This guy seriously doesn’t know when to mind his own business and Keith doesn’t know when his reaction shifted from normal-irritation to angry-horny-irritation but god, does he want nothing more than to cram Lance into a tight space somewhere and get him to shut the fuck up when he does.

Like this. Tight. Quiet except for their heavy breaths and the brush of Keith’s garrison jacket as Lance fists it into his palms. But no one is going to look for them here. No one’s going to be listening for them. So really it doesn’t matter all that much when Lance says it - half chuckles half grumbles - voice buzzing under the hold Keith has at the base of his throat.

“Heh-…you’re hornier than usual…”

Keith’s eyes shut in frustration, resisting the urge to start tightening his grip. “Shut the fuck up - I swear to god…”

And granted, everything they say during these moments always loses its heat. It’s hard to sound tough when you’re chasing after an orgasm on your rival’s thigh. But that doesn’t stop them from talking shit.

“You’re so fucking annoying,” Lance whines lowly, swallow thick under Keith’s palm. “I hate you so much…”

Keith rolls his eyes, “I know you do,” rolls his hips, “I hate you too,” keeps rolling forward because despite Lance’s obnoxious voice, he’s actually getting there - getting close. “Now shut up so I can cum.”

His order has Lance laughing in his face, clearly amused by the insult but not exactly stopping his own grind, his cock hard under his pants and against Keith’s thigh. “You  _do_ always come first.”

Another bubble of irritation works its way through Keith’s body but thankfully it’s not enough to fight off the heat tipping over after it, his free hand coming up to cover Lance’s mouth because he may be coming but he knows that look in Lance’s eyes. He’s not the only one. And Lance is definitely the one to be worried about giving away their position.

Surprise surprise.

Keith shudders as he comes down from his orgasm, his hand vibrating under Lance’s groan and then dropping away so they both can get the air they so desperately need.

It’s disgusting. He hates coming in his pants. And he’s pretty sure these were his last clean pair, all the others in a pile near his hamper. Ugh, he’s gonna have to go to the laundry wing tonight-

“Woooo,” Lance’s long dramatic breath interrupts his thoughts, their shoulders knocking roughly into each other as he pushes past Keith toward the door. But not before giving him two quick, firm pats on the cheek as he passes with a, “See ya next time,” and then straightens his shirt and slips out of the closet.

And oh…

Keith has to gather himself.

Has to take a measured inhale like Shiro taught him to during times of great exasperation. (Temper, temper…) And then he’s pulling at the hem of his jacket as well, making sure he’s all straightened out before taking one more breath and then pushing out the door.

At least he got off. At least his brain’s filled with some of those good-good chemicals that carry with him throughout the rest of the day.

Yep. All the way up until he makes tired, knowing eye contact with Lance across the laundry room, both of their hampers filled to the brim with pants to be washed.

 


	9. Lingerie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **October 9th**  
>  9\. “You shouldn’t have come here.”  
>  ~~Titfucking | Sthenolagnia (Strength/Muscles) | Bondage~~ | **Lingerie**  
>  _Additional tags: bottom lance, the boy looks delicious in[lace](https://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/0859/0954/products/beauty-night-marilyn-set-black-charm-and-lace-boutique-3.jpg?v=1526444293) [pic is nsfw obv]_

This planet’s surface is mountainous - the castle that the royalty insists the paladins stay at carved high into the rock. It’s probably Keith’s favorite place out of all their adventures - if he has to pick one, that is. Everything is just so beautiful… Like the view out his window, the golden hour setting the sea of crisp orange and red trees below them even more aflame. And now the moonlight, ushering in the tiny orbs of light that he’s narrowed down to being either tiny creatures, or floating magic.

He keeps the window open, enjoying the breeze but making sure the fire in the large fireplace is stoked to perfection.

Yes… He’s really feeling this place. Even if one special thing is missing.

_knock knock_

Keith’s head turns, glancing toward the door but not leaving his spot against the foot of the bed.

Could it be…?

As if to answer his wishes, the bedroom door opens a crack… Then a little more… Then just enough for the midnight intruder to slip through and close it behind them, barely a single noise made in the process.

Keith’s chest stirs at the sight of him, cloaked in one of the long, thin satin robes that was set out for each paladin in their room, his bare feet quiet as a mouse as he slowly makes his way over to where Keith’s watching him from in front of the fire.

“Lance…”

“Keith.” He says it with a little grin - almost mischievous - especially when he hears him say it.

“You shouldn’t have come here…”

But they’re both grinning now, Keith unable to dampen the flame of excitement as it lights deep inside him. Because they both know it’s dangerous. Being together like this. It’s dangerous even on the castle-ship. And now here… In a foreign land… The rest of the team’s rooms close by…

Lance moves in front of Keith, not silhouetted by the fireplace, but lit warm instead as his nimble fingers untie the soft band keeping his robe closed.

Keith’s chest flutters in anticipation again, eyes tracking every move, and then slowly making their way down Lance’s body as he parts the robe and then lets it drop to the floor with very little effort.

Because he’s gorgeous… Black lace clinging deliciously to his soft skin… Looking like some otherworldly being come to seduce him in the night…

Keith licks his lips without realizing it. Is patient up until the point Lance takes a step closer, still standing but stocking feet hugging either side of Keith’s lap. And Keith wants to touch.

“Still think I shouldn’t be here…?” Lance teases.

He hardly needs an answer with the way Keith leans forward, hands holding behind Lance’s ankles as he presses his lips to the bare skin peeking out between his panties and the top of the stocking. “Mhm…” he murmurs, hands trailing up his calves, mouth trailing up his thigh.

Lance hums regardless, always one for being given the attention he deserves. And damn, does he deserve it now.

Keith gives a little love bite at the joining of his hip and his inner thigh, reveling in the gasp it draws from the boy above him. He could spend the entire night there if he wanted to - just plucking those breaths from him - but the fire in his chest is starting to move downward.

“Lance,” he murmurs again, slowly dragging his mouth over the hip of the lacy black panties, but no further. “These are mine…”

Lance’s fingers drop to play with his hair. “I know…”

It’s an amazing feeling. But, “Thought I lost ‘em…”

He can hear the grin on Lance’s lips as he says it. “I know…”

It’s been almost a month now. Keith had just assumed he’d left them on some random planet somewhere and given the dignitaries something nice to gossip about. But no. Here they are. Pretty and perfect clinging to Lance’s hips.

“They look better on you…”

And oh, the smirk in his tone, fingers brushing Keith’s bangs back as he looks down at him, “I know.”

Keith blinks up at him… Wonders if it’s worth pressing further… Decides that he’d much rather run his hands up the backs of Lance’s legs, watching as the cocky look in his eye changes to  _want_ when he gets two nice handfuls of his ass and squeezes.

That’s better.

The fingers in Keith’s bangs slide back to the base of his hair, brushing through slowly but aimlessly as Keith leans forward again to press his mouth over where Lance’s cock is sitting pretty under all that lace.

It gets him another little hum of appreciation, Keith parting his lips and drawing them over him again, kissing the outline around him before sucking wetly at the hard tip through the fabric.

The fingers in his hair tighten into a gentle grip. Tell him without words that he’s feeling it. Coax him into following the line of Lance’s cock and mouthing at him through the now soaking panties.

“Fuck, Keith…” he breathes out above him, hands helping tilt his head.

And as much as Keith loves to ruin this boy without so much as taking his underwear off, he’s got a little something he’d like taken care of too, so…

With one last nuzzle at that wet spot, Keith gets to his knees - presses a kiss to Lance’s bare stomach - gathers himself on his feet and gets both hands on both sides of Lance’s waist and pulls him in for a sloppy kiss, Lance’s foot popping up behind him to balance before taking a step closer to kiss back.

But only for a second. Because then Keith’s pulling away, “Lay down,” breathy as he says it - as Lance watches him tug the hem of his shirt over his head and then does just that, plopping to the floor and turning onto his stomach so Keith can have a nice view as he undresses.

And a nice view it is, because Keith somehow forgot those panties are a thong in the back despite the fact that he had a good handful not one minute ago. And  _damn_ , was Lance’s ass made for that cut - cute and bubbly and yet nice and tight and fuck does he look good stretched out waiting for him in front of the fireplace like this.

Keith picks up the pace, untying the pull string of his pants and enjoying how Lance doesn’t even try to mask the fact that he’s checking him out. They’re way past that. And wow, is Keith ready to tap that ass like right this second.

Lance grins, still glancing over his shoulder as Keith kneels with the lube he had stuffed away in his bag. The fabric of the thong eases comfortably to the side, and Keith’s got his fingers all nice and slick, gentle with the first as he circles Lance’s hole and then-…

Wait…

“Something wrong…?”

And no, nothing is  _wrong,_  per se - it’s just, “You got yourself ready before coming here?”

“Mhm.”

Keith blinks, testing it with an immediate second finger knuckle deep, Lance’s back arching. And that’s great and all. Cuts down on a lot of time. The only thing is: “What if I wasn’t here?”

“I woulda fucked myself on your bedpost or something, I dunno - what’s it matter to you?” He’s getting sassy. Getting impatient. He wants a dick in him  _now_ \- Keith’s seen this enough before to recognize it.

And really, who is he to deny him such a thing?

Lance’s toes curl again as Keith crooks his fingers inside of him and then pulls them out, giving himself a few slick strokes before leaning forward to line himself up, underwear still dragged to the side, and then…

“Ohhh yeah…”

He sinks in like magic, Lance tight and hot and ass bouncing cutely as Keith gives it a little smack.

Oh yeah, he’s definitely gonna have a hard time holding back on this one.

The fire blazes before them, casting their shadows on the tall ceiling as Keith fucks him like there’s no tomorrow. The garter belts are staying surprisingly snug for how tight his grip on Lance’s waist is. Especially as he turns him - flips him on his back - pulls Lance’s legs closer to himself and over his shoulders - keeps his hips snapping in the way that’s getting those punched out groans from him.

It’s glorious. Hot and steamy. Has him grabbing higher where he’s holding Lance’s legs and pressing his mouth to the slippery sheer fabric of his dark stockings.

And it’s only a matter of time before Lance starts letting out  _those_ noises - the higher pitched ones - the ones that mean he’s close and losing it so Keith reaches down again, pulling at the waist of those black panties and giving Lance’s cock a few strokes and then he’s coming, eyes squeezed shut and back arching off the floor and looking like some sort of dream, his body lit in the glow of the fireplace behind him.

It’s enough to have Keith losing it right after him - the pleasure working over him in waves - heat heat heat heat heat - hips stuttering against Lance’s ass as he comes inside him.

And he doesn’t think Lance even cares. Knows  _he_  doesn’t care. Just as long as they take care of him before it gets on the fluffy white rug beneath him.

Because that would be bad. 

Because they’re not supposed to be  _doing this,_  you see.

But that doesn’t mean that’s ever going to stop them.

 


	10. Bonds (Telepathic or Empathetic)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **October 10th**  
>  10\. “You think this troubles me?”  
>  ~~Hair-pulling | Waxplay | Micro/Macro~~ | **Bonds (Telepathic or Empathic)**  
>  _Additional tags: vamp keith gets lance off using his mind/vampy energy, dubcon again just to be safe_
> 
> *continuation of vampire au from chapter 6*

Something has changed.

Ever since Lance’s run-in with that vampire, things have been…different.

He doesn’t quite know how to describe it. Couldn’t put it into words for someone if they happened to ask. But something is peculiar lately. Just…the way he  _feels._  When he brushes his fingers over the bite marks he keeps hidden under his collar, and suddenly there’s this…aura…manifesting…

Lance stares up at his ceiling, searching for answers as the moonlight streams in from his window and onto his bedding.

It’s almost as if… - and it’s the last thing he wants to address - but…it’s almost as if…

Someone’s watching him.

Right now.

He can feel their eyes, cold and dead but unflinching. Watching him lie here. Watching him think. Watching him slip a hand beneath his pillow, fingers running over the cool silver blade in hiding. He should take it out. Just in case. Be prepared.

_“…prepared for what…?”_

Lance shakes his head, hair mussed but it hardly matters. He knows that’s what Keith would say if he saw him like this. His brain doesn’t need to conjure up his voice like that just to mock him some more.

Although… It  _is_  Lance’s own fault for obsessing of late. He’s the one who can’t shake the image of Keith licking his lips, Lance’s blood thick and burgundy against stark white teeth. He’s the one who, no matter how hard he tries, finds himself going back to it - again and again - the shiver that ran up his spine as those teeth broke his skin…as those lips sucked him clean…

He’s obsessed with it. All of it. Doesn’t even care that Keith got away that night because-

_“Now you get to fantasize about our next encounter…”_

Lance sits up with a rush of air from his lungs, eyes darting around the room because-…because  _that time it wasn’t his brain._

He’s almost sure of it. Would say he’d bet his life on it if not for the cruel irony that his life is very much on the line if he’s right.

And…

He makes another mental note of his dagger… Waits silently, the candles flickering where they’re placed throughout the room…

And then…with as much strength and composure as he can muster… “…are you here…?”

The silence is thick and terrible.

Each second that ticks by adds to the growing sense of his own stupidity.

He’s losing his mind. Slowly but surely.

Unless…

The hair on the back of Lance’s neck prickles, the candle at his bedside flickering low, and a slow…cool…seeping energy brushes against the sweat on his brow.

And it could be nothing. Simply a trick his own mind is playing on him. If it didn’t start to move. If it didn’t start to slip downward, curving gently around his eyebrow to his temple and then over his cheek.  _Definite_  concentrated energy.

He’s here.

In the room with him.

Lance swallows thickly, back straight as the chill spreads over his throat in five distinct points of pressure. “You can’t be here…” He manages a stern tone. Tilts his head up just a touch. “There’s a ward around this house…” He saw the witch cast it himself.

_“You think this troubles me…?”_  comes the voice again - as clear as the night - as if he were standing right at Lance’s bedside.

But Lance knows better - “I do.” - wills his heartbeat to settle as the cool, invisible mist slides from his throat to spread over the skin bared by his opened shirt. “I think that’s why you’re not manifesting fully.”

To appear here - full-body - it would be impossible. The spell prevents that very thing from happening. And why _wouldn’t_  Lance’s house be under one? Why  _wouldn’t_  he want to be protected from the very vampires he hunts - especially the one he escaped nearly without his life?

_“Because you want something else to happen…”_  It’s dripping in his brain. Oozing.  _“Something more.”_

Lance steadies a breath through his nose, the goosebumps raising on his skin as the tendril of energy starts to move… Slow…mesmerizing circles against his chest. “No I don’t…”

_“No…?”_

More concentrated as it briefly skims over one of his hard nipples… And then the other…

And Lance has to stay adamant. “No…” Even if there’s a very large portion of his brain that’s lighting up pleasantly, the stimulation enough to have his toes curling.

And when Keith’s voice enters his mind again, it’s dripping with a sense of amusement.  _“I can hear that, you know.”_  The chill licks steadily across Lance’s nipples as if to prove a point - sends pleasant heat pooling to Lance’s lap.  _“I can hear all of it.”_

It’s a terrifying concept. All of Lance’s thoughts open for him to delve into. Surely they can’t be  _that_  connected.

_“Never met a hunter who’s hot for their prey before…”_

He can hear the smirk on his lips. Can feel the ghost of those teeth on his neck.

Lance finds the strength to reach up, his hand running over where the chill touches down on his chest. But there’s nothing. And the chill remains. And he’s-…

“What do you want?”

The cool energy slips over Lance’s hand… Slips around his wrist… Eases it downward toward his pants with a knowing pull…  _“What do_ you _want?”_

Lance’s pulse is thick in his ears. “I want you to leave.”

_“Really?”_

“Yes.”

_“Then why aren’t you thinking it?”_  He knows too much. Lance’s brain has told him too much.  _“Why’re you already imagining what you want to happen next?”_

Is he? He is. Damn it, Keith really can see into his thoughts. Which means he’s most likely been able to since their encounter. Which means he’s-… He’s heard all the things Lance has thought about him. Late at night. Alone.

Fuck. He’s dug his own grave.

Every little fantasy he’s allowed himself - unknowingly shared through the connection. Keith knows exactly how obsessed he is. Exactly how desperate he’s been for another run-in. Exactly how badly he wants to give into the energy coaxing him to untie his pants right now.

_“Do it…”_  Keith’s voice sends a shudder through Lance’s body.  _“Indulge yourself…”_

And Lance really should feel more shame. Should put up just a bit more of a fight. But what’s the point when he can’t even hide his desires in his own head?

The candles cast his shadow across the wall as he finally gives in and slowly pulls at the string of his pants, the fabric opening.

_“You’re shaking, brave hunter…”_  comes the dark grin dancing in his mind.  _“But it’s not out of fear…”_

It’s impossible to ignore. Impossible but true. And the tremble in Lance’s hands as he eases his pants down over his knees can’t distract from how clearly the situation has taken him. As if Keith needs more evidence.

The mattress is comfortable as Lance follows the gentle push back, but all he can focus on is the spreading energy - the cool tendrils lapping up his stomach - curling up the side of his neck - setting his pulse even more on edge and then finally drifting lower. Where they both know he wants it most.

Lance lets his eyes close, fingers grasping his bedding at the feeling of the cold invisible hold wrapping firmly around his hard cock. It stays steady for a moment, as if to tease, and then slowly, methodically, it starts to move.

“Christ…” he breathes out, pleasure blooming quickly in his belly. He truly is going straight to hell for this.

_“But this is what you want,”_ Keith coos darkly, energy lapping over Lance’s cock and stroking with just the right pressure.  _“And this…”_

Lance doesn’t have to ponder on it because the chill is already splitting off - remaining true and devastating as it strokes him, but now also snaking up his stomach and licking over his hardened nipples again.

It sends a shockwaves through him - has his back arching off the bed and mouth dropping open because  _Jesus Christ…_  How could something so sacrilegious feel so amazing?

_“Do you know what you look like…?”_ It’s almost as if he’s whispering it to him. Almost as if it’s his hand and his mouth and his tongue.  _“You look good enough to eat…”_

Lance shivers, his body practically squirming from the attention and the overstimulation and the _everything._ He wants to bite back but he can’t find his voice. Can’t sort through the blossoming waves of pleasure that work their way through him as the hold around his cock effortlessly picks up speed, his nipples perking all the more for Keith to play with.

He’s going to hell.

He’s going to hell he’s going to hell he’s going to hell.

_“Or you can stay with me…”_

Heat washes over him. From the top down. From the bottom up. It’s coming from all angles and he just wants to cum.  _Needs_  to cum.

_“But I’m not done with you yet.”_

Need needs  _needs to cum._

Lance tenses, head tipped back against his pillow and a cry ripping from his throat as the stimulation carries him over - hot and white and still somehow so fucking cold - so fucking real - energy rolling over him and hips stuttering as he cums all over himself.

He’s surely a sight to be seen - sweaty and panting and all by himself. Only he’s not. He hasn’t been. And somewhere, in the darkest parts of his mind, he has the feeling he never will be again.

But he has to focus on settling himself in the here and now. Has to keep taking in the breaths, eyes still shut as the energy dissolves off of his slick skin.

But most of all, he has to know.

“What do you get out of this…”

He asks it in his head. Focuses it in his mind.

Feels the chill run down his spine all over again when he gets the answer, simple yet terrifying in the way that it lights the thrill inside of him all over again.

_“You.”_

 


	11. Object Insertion - Cross-Dressing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **October 11th**  
>  **Object Insertion** | ~~Sounding~~ | **Cross-dressing** | ~~Tribadism/Scissoring~~  
>  _Additional tags: i don’t like the term ‘cross-dressing’ for personal reasons so this is trans keith rockin his skirt bc clothes are genderless alright, afab language, ALSO take 'object insertion' as very vanilla bc i wanted to do other objects but with the setting i was getting all worried germ-wise so 'vanilla object insertion', also theyre in public, lots going on in these tags my bad_

Their dive bar is on a tiny dying planet, floating forgotten in a sea of prospering ones. When the ship is close enough and the time is right (the time is always right), Lance and Keith steal themselves away into a pod and make a night of it, everyone else fast asleep as they leave them behind.

They’ve been here more than a handful of times now. Know a few familiar faces just from the frequency of it - but that’s the thing. That’s the real big winner about it. No one gives a shit about who anyone else is here. No one knows names - knows ranks - knows affiliations. You don’t come here to make ties. You come here to make poor decisions and then walk around with your dignity still intact the next morning.

But morning is a long ways off. And Lance has finally made his way back from the bathroom, the trip feeling like an eternity when it’s spent away from the boy he came here with.

Because Keith looks good tonight - always looks good - just looks  _good-good_  if you catch Lance’s drift, his back to Lance as he sits there at the bar, minding his own business for once.

He’s wearing that dark red plaid skirt that they’d gotten him just to see - knowing it could go either way until it didn’t. Until he put it on and it was  _on_  and yeah, there’s absolutely nothing up in the air about how confidently he rocks that baby. Especially tonight, the high waist of the skirt following tightly up his form, the top sitting a little past his belly button. It leaves just the thinnest strip of bare skin before his cropped faux leather jacket that he loves so much.

And yeah, that’s a lot of clothing description. Lance usually doesn’t pester people with fine details like that - he just needs everyone to understand how great his boy’s looking tonight. He wants to paint the picture so everyone can envision and appreciate and understand why he’s so goddamn handsy when he finally makes his way back to him, his hand immediately going to Keith’s waist so he can pull him close and tuck him into his side.

“Hey baby,” he grins, mouth pressed to Keith’s neck for a kiss that has him scrunching his shoulders up.

But it’s a good scrunch. Has him grinning too, eyelids already heavy as he hums a low chuckle. “Had me waiting long enough…”

Lance plants another kiss, and then lets himself be turned around and sat on one of the stools, all so Keith can stand to slot himself between his legs and press up against him. “Was it really that long?”

Oh yeah. He looks just as great from the front as he did from the back. No surprise there. “What the hell were you even doing…” Except it’s lost a lot of its bite with the way he’s sliding his hands to rest on the sides of Lance’s neck.

And Lance has had just enough of that clear fizzy stuff to mellow him out. To cool him off and not get  _as_ flustered as he’s pulled in for a kiss so hot that it should be melting him onto the floor. Because they’ve been doing this for what feels like forever now, both of them comfortable enough to say those real important words. It’s just…  _Fuck,_  sometimes Keith is too sexy for his own good.

Lance hums quietly, hands straying from his partner’s hips to reach behind and slip underneath his skirt. Keith’s bare ass is warm and tempting beneath Lance’s palms but he keeps his cool. Gives a little squeeze but that’s it. Swirls his tongue around Keith’s and then breaks off for a breath, voice low when he says it.

“Still got it in?”

Keith’s eyes flick up to his - heavy and dark - glossy and beautiful. “Why don’t you check?”

It’s what Lance was hoping he’d say.

Laughter swells from somewhere off to their right, but nothing is as important as who’s right in front of him, skin washed in reds from the lights hanging over them, attention straight ahead and focused on the only thing important to  _him._

Lance draws his hands from Keith’s backside, making sure to keep the fabric down and then bringing one hand between them in the front. It’s subtle - not as subtle as it  _could_ be - but nothing matters here anyway so what’s the harm?

Keith’s skin is hot as Lance slowly drags his hand up his inner thigh, helping to ease his legs apart just a little - just enough to turn his palm upward once he reaches the middle and trace his middle finger over the bottom of the toy waiting for him.

Right where it should be. Right where it’s been, ever since they stole away into the pod to come here.

Lance’s smile is small but pleased, the arousal already hitting him. “How’s it feel?”

Keith’s smile, on the other hand, is positively devilish. “Feels perfect…”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm…”

“I can tell - you sure are wet down here, baby.”

Keith’s lashes flutter as Lance proves his point with a little attention - uses the warm slick to run his thumb up his heat and rub a few generous circles over his clit.

It pulls the words right from Keith’s lungs. Has his lips parting - back straightening.

Has Lance’s grin the one turning devilish, “I bet you taste amazing right now…” thumb still playing with him under the fabric.

It’s all hidden from sight - perfectly innocent to everyone moving past them - definitely something they’ve done before - but the look on Keith’s face never gets old.

“Babe…” he murmurs, hands dropping to Lance’s thighs.

Warm even through the fabric. “Yeah?”

“If you don’t stop,” his grip tightens almost painfully, but his face shows no anger whatsoever as he leans a little closer, “I’m gonna cum. And then we’re gonna have to wait.”

Lance’s heart dips just a touch in his chest. He’s still not used to hearing him say shit like that - especially in public. But he catches his drift. He gets it. Gives his swollen clit one more rub for good measure and then pulls away. “Read ya loud and clear.”

Keith huffs a chuckle, watching as Lance brings his thumb into his mouth to lick it clean, and then he pulls that hand right back down between their laps with a quiet, “Don’t stop  _everything_ though…”

And damn…

God  _damn,_  Lance loves this boy.

The short handle at the end of their toy is perfect for Lance to grab hold of, the gaze held between them heavy as he presses it up into Keith’s heat in experimentation, “That what you want…?”

Keith swallows. Plays along. “Kinda…”

Just kinda. Lance already knows. Already knows what he actually wants. Can usually string this along for a few more minutes before giving it to him, but he’s impatient today. Can’t wait for it. Pulls the end of the toy, unsheathing it from Keith’s heat with a playful little hum.

“Hmm, someone picked the  _big one…”_

Keith’s pride is showing - chest is rising - back is arching as Lance lets it sink back into him in full.

“Of course you picked the big one,” he teases, both with his words and with the small amount of the toy he’s willing to use to start a rhythm up. “Anything to get filled, right babe?”

Keith accepts the banter with a huff of a laugh, “You know it…” - tenses as Lance fucks more of it into him.

A few feet away, someone throws a drink at someone else. Even further is a drunken stagger-fight. But right here, up at the bar, Lance grins, hand hidden between them and moving faster. Using more. Fucking the love of his life with the toy he picked out for himself.

_“Fuck_  you’re wet.” It’s impressive, honestly. Has Lance losing his mind a little. “I gotta eat you out after this.”

Keith’s eyes flutter closed, clearly envisioning it in his mind. “If you insist…”

Oh, he insists. His entire hand is slick from him, the toy stretching and filling so easily. He’s gotta get in on that.

“Or…”

Lance keeps up pace, attention piqued more than he thought possible. “Or?”

“Or we could go back to the pod.”

The pod. Yes. Okay. He likes where this is going. “Right now?”

“Right now.”

“Like…” he just wants to make sure he’s understanding. Wants to make sure he’s not just hearing what he wants to hear.  _“Right now_  right now?”

Keith’s grip tightens around his thighs again, gaze zeroing in on him. “Lance.”

“Okay.”

They’ve never left anywhere as fast as they’ve left here, fire on their heels and one thing on their mind.

The pod rocks as they steal themselves away inside once again, the toy soaked and thrown onto the floor so Lance can get Keith on his back, hold hooked around his spread legs and head finally disappearing under his skirt.

Because look… Lance is all for getting down all super secretly in the bar…

But nothing beats the real thing.

 


	12. Pet Play - Licking - Costume

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **October 12th**  
>  **Licking | Pet Play** | ~~Rimming/Analingus~~ | **Costume**  
>  _Additional tags: Lance dresses up like a cat for Sex Night and Keith has a concern_

It’s Sex Night.

Keith is certain of it, because it’s also Lifting Day and ‘flex’ rhymes with ‘sex’ so as long as he shows up to Lifting Day he always remembers that it’s Sex Night on Sex Night. Which is tonight. He’s flexed and now there’s sex.

It’s fool-proof.

(He doesn’t tell Lance that this is how he remembers.)

Anyway, Keith shows up to Lance’s room all showered and ready to go, hair still a little damp as the door slides open just enough and he steals himself away inside. It’s dark as always, the glow of the mood lighting Lance likes to put on paving Keith’s way to where Lance himself is waiting for him on his bed, naked and pretty and-

…and…

“Lance…”

…are those… _cat ears…on his head…?_

“There you are, babe,” Lance murmurs in his Sex Night voice, “What took you so long?”

Keith…blanks. Wants to say something but-…can’t. Watches Lance stretch his arms over his head instead. Watches him gracefully lift himself up from the mattress. Watches him move toward him in slow steps, but it’s hard to concentrate on anything else because those are definitely cat ears. And that’s a collar.

_What the fuck._

Does he not remember that it’s Sex Night?

“Lance-”

His question is clipped short by the feeling of Lance drawing close, the tips of his fingers dancing up Keith’s chest as he grins at him. “What’s wrong, Keith? Cat got your tongue?”

What-… “Uh…” What’s happening. Is this a joke or is he being 100% serious right now?

“Why don’t you come take a load off…” It’s more of a demand than a question, that made clear by how he’s being led by the hand to the bed and-

Okay. Are they just  _not gonna talk about the cat ears?_

The mattress bounces beneath Keith’s weight as he falls back onto it, immediately sitting up because this has to be a joke right? This is a joke? Lance is doing something funny and Keith doesn’t get it like usual?

He’s just gonna say it. “Can I ask about the ears?”

Absolutely nothing in Lance’s posture changes. No slip-ups. No tells. Just the little quirk of his lips and the: “Oh- What about my tail?”

“Your-…”

His-…

What.

He didn’t see a-

Lance turns, ever frustratingly in tune with Keith’s thought process, revealing his back side which Keith already very much likes but then yeah that’s a-… Yep, that sure as fuck is a tail. Sticking…out of-

Oh what the fuck, it’s a butt plug?

“Lance.”

He turns at his name. “Yes darling?” Creeps forward to straddle him on the bed, skin warm where it touches. “Something wrong?”

And Keith is feeling ten thousand things right now but he can only pinpoint one. “What the fuck is going on.”

“With what, darling…”

“With the cat stuff.”

“I have no idea what you mean, darling…” It’s in his tricky voice. His  _I’m getting away with something_  voice. His  _I’m having fun for reasons you don’t understand, Keith_  voice.

And Keith would call him out on it, but Lance has started kissing up his jaw the way he likes. All sweet and slow. Like how he does when he wants Keith to feel extra nice.

His mouth gets all the way up to Keith’s ear - the perfect time to lick hotly at the shell and then suck at his earlobe with a quiet hum.

And Keith is…torn. Because it’s all their normal stuff. All the stuff that feels good to him. But he can’t glaze over the very alarming fact that his boyfriend currently has a tail plug up his ass if he looks down.  _But_ everything else is familiar. Normal.

“…mm _mrow…”_

Okay,  _that’s_  not normal.

“Did-” did he- “Did you just-”

It’s cut off again, Keith’s shirt pulling over his face, arms coming up to fit through by the sheer force of it. And okay, they’re not talking about the meowing - alright - just add it to the fucking list, he guesses.

Lance moves along with zero hesitation, his smirk always so mischievous but different tonight in a way Keith can’t put his finger on. Especially as he starts moving down Keith’s body, his normal kisses replaced by short, individual passes of his tongue. Over his collar bone. Over one of his nipples. Over a little further down and it’s all with his ass sticking up. And that tail… And those ears… And the-

“…mmrow…”

And Keith has to let out a breath, eyes squeezing shut in a wince because, “Okay, this is-” How does he say it. “This is weird, babe. Even for you.”

Because it is. It fucking is.

But Lance doesn’t seem to think so because he’s reaching Keith’s sweatpants, fingers curling under the waistband with an inquisitive, “What’s weird?”

And yeah - this  _has_ to be a joke. “You doing…” his hands gesture in front of him but are no help - leave him high and dry - have him mumbling out an unimpressive: “Cat.”

His sweatpants are being eased down though. Just a little past his hips. And Lance is looking up at him all doe-eyed. “Do you think it’s hot?”

Does he-  _“What?”_

“Doesn’t it turn you on?” Here comes that smirk again.

It’s the same time as Keith’s frown. Because really? Is he serious? “Did you really just ask me if you acting like a cat turns me on?”

“Well does it?”

“No.” Stupid.

“You sure?” He’s pulling at his sweatpants. Easing them down almost like a magic show. Eager to reveal what they both already know is underneath. “Not even a little?”

Keith huffs, eyes flicking out to focus on something in front of him so he can keep his cool. “Lance, I’m hard because you’re hot and you’re naked on top of me.”

“Hot because offff-”

“Hot because you’re hot. Normally. Without the-” more gesturing - still just as unhelpful - “Cat.”

“Hm.” It’s unconvinced. That’s very clear. And with that, his sweatpants are given one final pull, his cock springing back and  _listen it’s because he loves Lance alright-_  “Interesting.”

Keith runs a hand over his tired eyes. Wonders if all significant others test their other halves like this. Realizes that the sensation he’s anticipating is not coming and not coming and not coming and-

He drops his hand, frustration probably clear on his face as he stares down at him to huff, “Are y-…”

It gets stuck in his throat, the feeling of Lance quickly darting his tongue out to lick under the head of his cock and then stopping.

It plucks his breath from his lungs.

Is like a tease.

Definitely a tease because Lance does it again. And Keith’s hips buck forward a little. And again - quick jolts of almost-pleasure - and fuck, is he seriously going to kitten-lick him to death like this?

“Babe, you’re k- _nn– oh my God, why-”_

“Just say you’re into it, Keith,” he’s  _grinning - that motherfucker._  “It’s okay to like it.”

Keith wants to crawl out of his skin. Wants to grab Lance by those stupid cat ears and fuck his mouth. “Fuck, why is this so important to you.”

He of course doesn’t get an answer. Just more quick licks. More teasing that has his cock jumping from the feeling and Keith really doesn’t understand. Really doesn’t get why Lance would be going through all this trouble to get him to say he was into cat stuff unless it was to-

Keith’s eyes fly open where he lies.

Realization dawning.

Fuck.

“This is because I called you a furry yesterday.” Fuck fuck fuck. He did this to himself.

Lance’s eyes are still on him. Still zoned in. He can feel them burning and yeah. Yeah, that’s why everything that’s happening right now is happening.

Because Keith called Lance a fucking furry yesterday. “I get it,” he admits. But he’s not sorry.

But: “Everybody’s a lil’ bit of a furry, Keith,” Lance finally says, shoulder muscles flexing in his back like he’s gearing up for something. “Even if it’s just a tiny bit.”

And then it’s happening. Finally. He’s grabbing Keith and swallowing him down and alright, for a second it doesn’t even matter what they’re debating because Lance is finally giving real head and it’s sending heatwaves through Keith’s body.

And anyway, Keith isn’t even a furry. Zero percentage.

This doesn’t count. He’s already attracted to Lance without the ears and everything. Wouldn’t it only be if he was suddenly attracted to him  _because_ of that stuff?

Lance gets Keith’s cock good and sloppy-wet, drool running down his chin as he sits up, gaze still unbroken, and then turns to present his ass, tail and all.

Keith’s swallow is thick as he watches - as he waits, unsure of what to do. But apparently all he’s supposed to do  _is_  watch. Sit and watch. See how Lance wraps the dark tail through his fingers…around his wrist…gathers it all and then gives it a slow pull, his lips parting for a little pant as the plug slips wetly from inside him. And he stays bared - stays presenting himself, ass popped out on his hands and knees in invitation.

And it’s-… There’s… Something about it.

Keith doesn’t know.

Keith doesn’t  _want_ to know.

Just gets to his knees and gladly takes his place, lining himself up and then running a hand up Lance’s spine as he eases in for a slick, tight fill. Lance sings out beneath him. Arches his back against his hand. Bounces his ass back to meet his thrusts.

It’s all nice and tight and hot and Keith  _swears to god if Lance meows right now…_

“Ooo…” Lance coos instead, straightening so he can press his back to Keith’s chest.

Keith lets him wrap a hand around one of his wrists. Lets him move it from his hold on his waist and drag it up his stomach and chest. Keeps fucking him, but lets his hand be drawn up Lance’s throat, the leather of the thin collar cool beneath his fingers.

“Call-…” Lance is even having a little trouble, breath coming quickly as he tilts his head back to press his lips just below Keith’s ear. “Call me…a good kitty…”

Keith’s chest does a confusing flip, the wince returning to his face regardless of the fact that his hips start to snap tighter. “Jesus, Lance…”

“C’mon baby.”

“No…” Fuck, Lance is hot squeezing around him like this.

“No?” He’s panting in his ear. Words dripping from his lips. “Why? Am I a  _bad_  kitty…?”

The growl that escapes the back of Keith’s throat is one of frustration. He assumes. He hopes. But it’s deep. And he’s fucking Lance like his life depends on it. And he didn’t realize until right this second that he’s grabbing onto the front of that stupid collar as he fucks him. And-…

“Shit, I’m close…” Already. It’s all that fucking teasing. “M’close babe-”

“Come inside me-”

Keith groans through the buildup, white-knuckled around Lance’s collar and hips snapping and fuck, it’s gonna be a good one - he can feel it uncurling and blooming and oh fuck his teeth find Lance’s shoulder, baring down as it overtakes him and  _yes, yes yes yes…_

Keith’s entire body tenses, cock buried deep in Lance’s ass as he comes in hot bursts. It washes over him and blacks him out for a moment because before he knows it he hears Lance coming too. Loses time. Can only focus on the pleasant hum tingling throughout his body and filling his lungs.

It feels good to lie down.

Lance’s weight feels good on top of him.

It’s all good.

And then he sees the look on Lance’s face. The curling, knowing grin as he props his chin on the hands resting daintily on Keith’s chest.

And heeeere we go. “No.”

“Yes.”

“It wasn’t because of that.”

“You’re at least one third of a furry, babe - I’m happy to break it to ya-”

“Lance, I am not a furry-”

“You’re tellin’ me you’re gonna fuck me like that and then turn around and say you weren’t into it?”

“I was into it-”

“Yeah because you’re a f-”

“Because you’re hot and I love you-”

“You were all over that collar shit, Keith - c’mon, you really wanna do this right now?”

“You’re the one who-” blah blah blah. 

Their debate continues for days - for months - Keith consistent in his denial - Lance dead set on his assumption.

The true answer, the world may never know.

But Keith does. 

And he’s not telling a soul.

 


	13. Distracted Sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **October 13th**  
>  13\. “Try harder, next time.”  
>  ~~Weight Gain~~ | **Distant/Distracted Sex** | ~~Gags | Creampie~~  
>  _Additional tags: lance fucks keith from behind as they play video games_

“Ow.”

“Where’re your buffs?”

“I dunno - I put ‘em on, didn’t I?”

“I thought-  _ahh…_  Did you…?”

Lance pulls his mage back on the top half of their split screen, rapid beeps sounding as he scans through his inventory for consumables and- “Ah - no - they’re right here.”

“Well use them.”

“I know.”

More beeps - buff icons appearing by his stats - Lance’s mage rejoins the fight as real life Lance goes back to slowly rocking his hips, no longer distracted by his mistake.

Keith continues to play on underneath him where he’s stretched out and bent over the ottoman. It’s comfy for him. And kneeling like this is comfy for Lance. It’s all one great big slow, comfy fuck and he’s not sure how it started but they’re not gonna stop anytime soon.

Not when it feels this good.

Lance’s mage fires off a health regen spell to where Keith’s paladin slices away at the main enemy, his health bar slipping worryingly low. If Lance knows one thing about Keith, it’s that he’d rather die dealing heavy damage than live because he had to stop and drink a potion.

“You don’t even look at your health bar anymore do you.” It’s not a question. And Lance’s voice may be getting a little breathy from all this easy friction but it still delivers.

Just like Keith’s. “Heh…” His chuckle’s heated. “That’s what  _you’re_  for right?”

Lance resists the urge to roll his eyes, instead opting to lean forward, controller still in his hands and hovering over Keith’s back as he gets in closer. “Yeah yeah… Try harder next time…”

It’s a little more comfortable this way. Easier to fuck him deep instead of fast. Because fast isn’t the goal. But deep…

“Mm…” Keith hums. And even if it’s distracted, it’s still hot. Always is. “Do you- _…hhhn…”_

Lance swallows down a noise. Casts a barrier around the paladin. “…huh?”

Their characters continue to move where told, unaware of what’s happening behind the controllers. Come to think of it, Keith doesn’t seem totally aware of what’s happening behind his controller either.

Lance lets it go. Whatever it was, it’s not important now. They’ve finally hacked away at more than half of the boss’s health bar, each little slice that falls away fueling Lance’s hips.

“How long ‘til your ult…”

Keith’s breathing heavily - taking a moment to glance at his cooldowns, “Twenty seconds…”

 _Twenty seconds?_ That’s forever. Why’d Keith unlock the longest cooldown move? Literally nothing about him or his paladin suggests he’s patient enough for a twenty second-

_“Fuck.”_

It comes out strangled. Could either be from the heavy hit he just took or the way Lance buries his cock as deeply as possible in him and holds it there.  

Because Lance is definitely feeling that last one too, Keith’s ass always so nice and tight for him. He does regret not going ham enough to see it bounce like he so very much enjoys, but there’s always later. And he’s pretty sure he can milk this for all it’s worth, however long that may be. And he just hopes he can concentrate enough on the-

“God - c’mon Lance,  _fuck me…”_

Impatient. Needy.

Lance is an okay multitasker but it seems that only applies if one of the things involves his dick and the other thing involves his gaming skills. No room for anything superfluous like  _thinking._

The ottoman creaks under their weight as Lance starts up his slow rhythm again, lips dropping behind Keith’s ear for a little nibble.

He can feel the effects underneath him - the little squirm Keith does and the grumble that definitely sounds way more like a whine than a protest.

One third of the boss’s health bar left.

“Gonna use it…” The ult.

Lance murmurs an, “mmkay,” and casts a double-damage buff on the paladin and slips his arms beneath Keith’s armpits so he can also rest his weight on his elbows on the ottoman.

His controller’s out of sight now but it doesn’t matter. The ultimate move lands and it takes a nasty chunk of health off and Lance squeezes his arms around Keith and nips at the top of his ear.

And oh…Keith’s voice is so breathy and hot. “W-…what are you, a cat…?”

Lance grins, taking his place to deal damage as Keith’s paladin falls back to regain stamina. “No, just horny…”

“Heh…no shit…”

“I like fucking you slow like this, babe…”

He can hear Keith swallow thickly, his ass tilting up to meet Lance’s rocking. “Surprised you-  _on your right.”_

Lance’s mage casts a barrier to block the incoming arrow. “Thanks…”

“Mhm…”

It’s how they go on to play for the better part of the night, eyes glued to the TV in front of them, hips easing gently…unhurried…milking every last heated breath and hum of pleasure that they can.

They beat the boss with health and magic to spare, but it isn’t really even about that anymore. And they both know it.

And the best part? The funniest moment of the entire evening? It’s sometime around match fifteen of a tournament they enter, Lance’s mage dropping damage like nobody’s business as Lance starts up this delicious grind.

It’s when Keith hums a smile, self-aware of his own joke as he sways back onto Lance’s dick with a proud, “Mm babe, nice stamina…”

It’s the funniest shit Lance has ever heard in his life.

They instantly lose the match.

Neither of them care.


	14. Pussy Eating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **October 14th**  
>  14\. “Some people call this wisdom.”  
>  ~~Asphyxiation~~ | **Cunnilingus** | ~~Distention | Tentacles~~  
>  _Additional tags: trans keith, afab language, public sex, lance is a slave for this boy and his pussy and doesnt care that people know it_
> 
> ** a continuation of Chapter 11 **

They’re back at their dive. In their zone. Drunk as fuck and handsy but as usual, no one around them cares. Because everyone around their booth is either in the same shape or worse. And Lance doesn’t get to touch Keith like this unless they’re in one of their rooms or here  _so…_

“Mm, babe…”

He loves Keith in his lap. Loves those warm hands on his neck. Loves that mouth sucking at his pulse point. Loves Keith. All of him. All the time.

It’s been forever since they’ve gotten to break away from the others and it shows. Keith’s lips move slowly but without missing a spot, surveying the span of Lance’s neck before choosing exactly where he wants to mark.

It’s so hot.

Keith’s so hot.

The fire in Lance’s chest is hot and he wants to touch too.

Slight but steady vibrations buzz from Keith’s pleased hum as Lance reaches down to snake a hand up his thigh and over his ass. He’s not wearing underwear again. Lance isn’t expecting him to be. The combination of this skirt and this dive always equals Keith going commando underneath. And Lance is definitely not complaining.

“Bet a ton of people here wanna see  _this…”_  he says lowly, grin playful as he slides his hand over, thumb just brushing where Keith parts his legs for him.

“Yeah?” He’s speaking against his neck…grazing his teeth over the skin…dipping his head up so he can bring those lips just a breath away from Lance’s. “Do  _you?”_

Lance’s can’t help his smirk. “Always, babe.”

That must please him. Because it’s got Keith catching his bottom lip gently between his teeth, giving a little tease of a pull, and then he’s slowly pushing himself back, moving away until he’s reached the end where the booth meets the wall.

Lance watches with eager eyes and that spark of curiosity that only Keith can light in him. Their corner booth’s table is high, but still open. It’s what makes it all the more thrilling when Keith leans back against the wall, his foot coming up to rest on the booth seat - knee bent… _legs spread…_

Lance’s pulse jumps. Eyes soak in the sight of his boyfriend sitting here, among everyone, bare pussy open and for the taking.

He moves forward without needing permission because permission has already been granted. Keith has already opened up and given him the key and now Lance gets to indulge, his elbows supporting most of his weight as he head disappears under the table and between those parted legs.

Normally he’d tease, but it’s been a while and he doesn’t know how much either of them could take of that. So he starts off slow. Slow, but heavy. Uses his tongue to slip warmly between Keith’s folds and lick him open.

It gets him a hand in his hair. Fingers carding between.

“You’re already wet,” he smirks against him, but it might not be loud enough compared to the yelling happening around them.

It doesn’t matter. He’s getting what he wants. Keith’s getting what  _he_ wants, hand steady as Lance laps his tongue over his lips and up to his clit. It’s throbbing. Already. Lance can feel it as he gently sucks it into his mouth, giving it some quick licks while he holds it there. Just like he knows Keith likes.

Heels click angrily against the floor behind him but Lance stays focused, more than satisfied with the fact that the people walking by aren’t getting as much of a show as they could be. Not with Lance’s head here, bobbing diligently right where Keith’s legs are spread wide.

He doesn’t care if they see him eating him out. Fuck, he doesn’t even care if they pull up a chair and invite friends. Just as long as they don’t see Keith. As long as Keith’s pussy stays a figment of their imagination, and a secret to him and Lance.

Because  _damn._  He really doesn’t wanna share this bad boy with anyone if he doesn’t have to.

“Mm… How are you so fucking good at that…”

Lance glances up with a playful grin. “Some people call this wisdom.”

Because Keith’s pleased up there, hand guiding the back of Lance’s head as he leans back down and flicks his tongue over him, then starts up a rhythm of long, broad strokes between his folds.

His other hand is elsewhere. Above. Elbow leaned against the table.  Keith brings his drink to his lips for a generous sip. Keeps steady eye contact with the man who’s watching them on his way to the back of the bar.

And Lance keeps pace through it. He’s dedicated. Gives quick, concentrated licks to his juicy clit as he slips a finger inside his heat so fucking easily because Keith is  _soaking wet_  - slick and dripping on the booth seat and Lance knows some of that is his spit but  _god damn…_

He slips another finger inside him. Turns his palm up and crooks them, giving them a little wiggle until the grip in his hair tightens because that’s when he knows he’s hit it.

And fuck  _yeah_  he’s gonna make Keith come right here. Why the hell wouldn’t he?

“Ooh…” It’s building up. He can hear it in his boyfriend’s voice. The way it clips just a little higher.

It’s a good sign, so Lance keeps doing what he’s doing. Because what he’s doing is right. And he’s not gonna stop doing what he’s doing because it’s making Keith’s thighs start to tighten around his head.

Lance grins against his pussy, chin dripping as he sucks his throbbing clit into his mouth to play with some more - strokes his fingers to play with the pressure on Keith’s sweet spot some more - loves eating him out and fingering him but he loves the feeling of Keith’s thighs squeezing him too so-

Keith’s hips stutter, grip almost painful in Lance’s hair as he rides the fingers inside him - grasps his drink on the table too tightly - grinds his wet pussy against Lance’s tongue all with the straightest face he can muster until-

“Mm…!”

His tight heat clenches around Lance’s fingers… Orgasm rolls through him in waves… Thighs nearly choke Lance out for good, but honestly…that’d be such a great fucking way to die…

Keith’s fingers untangle from Lance’s hair but stay there… Coax him… Scratch lightly at his scalp as Lance laps over his work, slurping lightly as he eases him down off his orgasm…

And for a moment, they’re alone. No one else is in the bar. No one’s moving past their booth. It’s just the two of them.  _Alone._

Lance lifts his head from between Keith’s legs, grinning because he already knows he’s a sloppy mess.

Keith smiles down at him, spent and satisfied, fingers brushing his bangs off his forehead for him.

They don’t have to say anything.

Don’t  _want_ to say anything.

Because right now, it’s just the two of them.


	15. Thigh Fucking - Uniforms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **October 15th **  
> 15. ~~Forniphilia | Overstimulation~~ | **Intercrural Sex (Thigh Fucking) | Uniforms **  
>  _Additional tags: voltron universe, Lance touches an aphrodisiac-flower at an inopportune time, established friends-with-benefits klance_********

Lance did the thing.

Allura told him specifically  _not_ to do the thing but he still did the thing and now he’s tearing around the Atlas, just seven short minutes until mission lift-off but he can’t do that until he fixes this and  _damn it damn it damn it he needs-_

“Ah-” the flash of blue and white fur around the corner has Lance picking up speed, “Kosmo! Hey!” the space dog’s ears perking up as Lance practically collapses onto him with a hurried, “Kosmo - wh-…can you take me to-WAA-”

He doesn’t have to finish for his needs to be tuned into, the air crackling and buzzing around them and then with a flash of light he’s elsewhere - in a Lion - gathering quickly to his feet at the sight of-

“Keith-” He’s at the side control panel, fully decked out in his armor - turning with a little bit of a startle as his dog drops off the undesirable cargo but- “Keith-…” Wow he can’t breathe. “Keith buddy you gotta help me.”

“What the fuck are you doing?” Of course he’s gonna be an asshole about it. “Why aren’t you in your-…”

There’s a moment of complete silence, Keith’s eyes meeting him through his visor. Really seeing. And then, as deadpan as can be…

“You touched the plant, didn’t you.”

“No!” Lance throws his hands out in front of him for good measure. But then the silence rolls back around. And the creeping sense of judgement. And… Shit… “…yes-”

“Jesus-”

“-but only for a second!”

“Lance,” he’s turning back to the panel to input the coordinates they’re supposed to be flying out to soon. “Why can you never just leave shit alone?”

And okay - rude. “You know I can’t help myself! It’s in my nature, right? Right, Kosmo?” Said pup immediately evaporates into thin air as soon as Lance turns to him for backup. Rude again! “Ugh, like father like son-”

“Go back to Red, Lance.” He’s starting to get his Leader Voice going, finger punching away at holographic buttons and the Black Lion whirring to life around them. And Lance wants to say it’s annoying, but his  _pants situation_  is just making it sound really really hot -  _god, for fuck’s sake._

“Keeeith,” he’s whining now, the heat inside him too uncomfortable to not start shedding some layers. “C’mon man, I’m dyin’ here…”

Keith can probably hear him unclamping himself from his chest armor but he remains with his back turned. “What do you want  _me_ to do about it.”

Oh! Oh- _ho what does he want Keith to do about it._  “Can I maybe like…possibly…I dunno like  _fuck you really quick or-”_

“That’s a joke, right?” He turns for that one, just to make sure Lance sees his unimpressed blink. “You’re joking?”

“Holy shit I wish I was.”

Because then he wouldn’t be standing here hot as fuck, popping a rager in his suit while he has to listen to his ‘technically leader’ spout off: “We’re lifting off in four minutes.”

“I know.”

“Are you crazy?”

“Just for that ass - ahh-” Fuck that was so lame holy shit he needs to stop letting his dick do the talking and think. Think.

Okay he can’t think when he’s this hard. Or wait. Maybe…

“I’m-…” heavy breath, “Red’s gonna be all over the place if I can’t get this worked out in time,” ah yes, that catches Keith’s attention, head perking up like his dog had not two minutes ago. “You know that, right? It’s gonna throw everyone’s shit off.”

“You mean  _you’re_ gonna throw everyone’s shit off.”

Okay yeah, but “Either way.” he stands his ground. “Shit’s gonna be off. You wanna deal with that the whole trip, Mr. Boss Man?”

It’s sinking in. All of it. Slowly, that silence making its way back as Keith stills at the panel, brain most likely working. And then, like a miracle, his head rolls back in a silent groan, expression less than pleased as he turns and steps toward Lance with a huff. “I swear to god…”

Lance’s entire body lights up in anticipation, his top armor already collected on the floor and making way for Keith’s “turn around” so he can unzip the back of his bodysuit.

And hell yes hell yes, oh god, he’s gonna feel so much better after this.

Lance spins on his heels, peeling himself free from the top half of his bodysuit and easing it down past his waist with zero shame. Because there’s no time for shame. And he knows he’s still got his leg armor firmly attached but he doesn’t give a shit as he moves forward, boots heavy against the floor.

Keith’s still less than amused, but he doesn’t say anything, his complete lack of attempt to take any of his shit off presenting Lance with one very obvious opportunity.

And listen, if you think he’s too proud to stand here and thigh-fuck Keith Kogane three minutes before liftoff you must not know Lance even a little bit.

The friction is delicious the very second Lance slips his aching cock between Keith’s thighs. The bodysuit fabric is thick but soft and _ohhh-ho-ho yes sir, that’s the shit right there…_

Sparks light up his entire body as he wastes no time getting a rhythm working, hips snapping and hands gripping and he’s not sure how this turned out with them facing each other but Keith’s refusing to look at him. Has his eyes absolutely everywhere else. And Lance may be a seeing everything through glazed over, lust-saturated lenses but he’s-…Keith might…actually be blushing…?

“This doin’ it for ya?” Lance chuckles breathlessly - a clear joke.

Keith’s frown is somehow adorable as he grumbles it. “Just hurry up.”

“Not- _nn-_ … …not gonna be a problem…”

Lance lets his eyes close in bliss, sweat starting to drip down his bare chest and collect in the bunched fabric of his suit below his waist.  _Definitely_ not gonna be a problem. Not with how Keith purposely squeezes his thighs together tighter, the soft warmth sheathing Lance’s cock to perfection.

“Ugh, fuck…” he groans… Hands slip on the utility belt on Keith’s hips…

Two minutes.

“Will you cum already.”

Lance tilts his head up, eyes still closed. “Don’t rush me…”

“I’m rushing you, Lance.” There’s that Leader Voice again - god damn that shit is hot. “Hurry the fuck up.”

 _“Ooo_  - yeah…boss me around some more…” He’s getting delirious but he doesn’t care. The friction is so nice. Has that heat washing over him.

It’s all so much that he almost misses the static-voice coming in through Keith’s helmet, words muffled but voice familiar.

“I know,” Keith confirms. Swallows roughly. Lets his eyes close as the voice comes in again. “I know - he’s here. … …he’s here - I have him, Shiro…”

Lance brings his bottom lip between his teeth, the pleasure starting to curl deep in his belly.

“He’s-… It’s fine - we’ll be good for lift-off…”

Holy shit, can Shiro hear how fucking breathy that was?

Lance doesn’t know why that stokes it - why it carries him so close - but it has him grabbing onto Keith’s chest plate as he fucks his thighs with enough power to have Keith’s body rolling with him - both their eyes closing - Lance giving one more thrust and then coming between Keith’s thighs, some other worldly deity helping him make sure he shoots his load behind and doesn’t get any on Keith’s suit.

Or at least… He’s pretty sure he didn’t…

It doesn’t really matter to him right now because right now…holy  _shit_  does he feel better…

“Oh man…”

Keith’s silent in front of him, eyes finally meeting his.

They’re still not amused. Still very aware of the inconvenience. But nothing can mask the blush showing through his visor.

“Are you  _done now.”_

Lance grins, the back of his hand wiping the sweat from his brow. “Yes sir.”

“Great.” He steps away. Turns immediately before Lance can get a good look at him. “Get to Red in the next fifteen seconds and I won’t tell Shiro you just came all over Black’s side panel.”

Lance doesn’t even entertain the possibility of figuring out if Keith’s lying or not. There’s no time. Not with Kosmo reappearing and then zapping him to the cockpit of the Red Lion.

Nope, he’s just making himself comfortable and listening to her power up just in time. Seconds to spare, actually.

He did it. He actually fucking did it. They can head out and form Voltron completely unhindered by a certain someone’s unbearable horniness.

Or at least…

They would…

If a certain paladin wasn’t now having trouble in a certain Black Lion.

Lance grins to himself, feet kicked up on Red’s dash.

At least it isn’t him.


	16. Nipple Play - Frottage - Body Worship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **October 16th**  
>  **Nipple Play | Frottage | Body Worship** | ~~Sixty-nine~~  
>  _Additional tags: post-season 7, established relationship klance, keith returns from a long mission and reconnects with his love in the showerbay, ask me why this got sappy and i won’t be able to tell you._

It’s been a month.

A long month.

The mission was no more difficult than usual, just lengthy - dragging on where it shouldn’t be - keeping him from where he’d like to be - from the people he’d like to see. He got to work with his mother here and there, but it wasn’t the same. Not by a long shot. Because it didn’t fill the very specifically shaped hole in his heart - the one that’s aching now as he steps into the dimly lit shower bay.

It’s the third place he’s looked. After his bedroom. After Blue.

But when the damp air hits him, the steam parting to reveal broad shoulders and the familiar carry, the hole in his chest starts to fill like clockwork.

The Blade has made him silent. Sneaky without meaning to. Leaves him undetected as he peels out of his suit and follows the pull forward.

It’s what makes the slick body underneath his tense for a breath of a second - just the one - but then it’s melting…easing back into Keith’s chest…hand perching on the arms Keith’s wrapped around him from behind, chin tucked over his shoulder.

Lance…

They don’t speak. They never do when he returns from a mission late at night like this, everything else on the Atlas dark and sleeping. And Keith’s alright with it, because what would he even say?

_I missed you…_

_I thought about you…_

_I love you…_

All of that is so much. Even though they both already know it.

Lance leans the side of his head against Keith’s, wet hair sticking to his skin. The shower’s spray is hotter than he usually likes, but Keith won’t press it like he presses his hands to Lance’s chest, helping slowly work the soap in.

It’s therapeutic. Has an easy breath escaping the boy in front of him. Has a hand brushing over Keith’s - more soap - …lilac…? - and then dropping down to lather elsewhere.

Keith rubs the suds in as gently as possible. Has to re-calibrate his touch, no longer gripping his dagger for dear life. It didn’t come easily at first -  _re-calibrating_  - but now…

Now he’s confident in it. Now he’s able to slide his soapy hands up Lance’s neck and then ease them around to the back of it. The step he takes away from the familiar body heat is difficult, but it lets him continue his work. Lets him ease his hands down the planes of Lance’s back…his shoulder blades…his spine…

Lance has definitely grown into himself - has filled out his shoulders and trimmed his waist. The muscles in his back are tight but gorgeous as Keith glides his slick hands over them maybe more than necessary, but he doesn’t care. He likes to feel them. Likes to watch them flex as Lance reaches his arms up to wash his hair.

He’s just outright beautiful. Especially like this - tucked away but open in the dim lights of the showerbay.

Keith’s hands follow the endearing dip of his lower back, coming together and then spreading again when they reach the swell of his ass.

Lance lets him touch. Lets him appreciate as he tilts his head down to rinse the shampoo from his hair. Always lets him do damn near whatever he wants when he gets back late like this - especially after going so long without seeing each other.

And right now, Keith wants to press in close again. He wants to snake his hands under Lance’s arms and hold him once more. Maybe give a little squeeze. He wants to do whatever makes him happy, hands gathering more soap to bring up to Lance’s chest.

His nipples are perky from the shower and Keith can’t resist the urge, brushing his fingers up over them slowly…one…by one…by one…

It has Lance breathing out again. Has him squaring his chest, eager for more.

So Keith gives it to him.

It’s slippery. Soapy. Almost playful as Keith flicks the pads of his middle fingers over Lance’s hard nipples, the buds perking even more under the attention. He takes it as a good sign. Continues to slip over them, changing up the pattern just to hear the gasp from Lance’s lips. To feel the hand come up and hang onto his wrist. Encouraging. Coaxing Keith to keep going.

The curl of arousal is thick in Keith’s belly, his hips easing forward on autopilot and his cock slipping in the slick, soapy heat between their bodies.

It’s been so long. Without Lance. Without Lance’s attention. It’s been an eternity and he knows they both know it. Knows Lance doesn’t think any less of him for rocking into him like this. Especially as Keith switches it up - rolling Lance’s nipples between his thumbs and pointer fingers and feeling the way his back arches from it.

The steam of the shower has Keith loose, heat blooming where he rubs himself, fingers giving Lance a tweak that has his head falling back, wet hair resting on Keith’s shoulder.

And  _fuck…_  Keith really wants to see his face.

Lance follows the hands on his hips without hesitation, the shower floor squeaking beneath his feet as he turns and they can finally look in each other’s eyes and-

…

Keith’s chest is on the verge of exploding if he doesn’t do something quick - if he doesn’t meet Lance halfway and kiss the everloving shit out of him. It fills in all the holes - all the spaces. Has him wrapping his arms around him and letting out a little noise from the back of his throat because he can feel Lance hard against him.

They move against each other without a word - unplanned but certainly popping off all the right points of pleasure as they rock against each other.

Lance is harder but Keith’s not far behind. Not with how amazing this feels, his cock trapped between his stomach and  _Lance’s_ cock and the soap on their skin makes it slick - makes it easy - gives them room to focus on getting as close as possible, arms wrapped and Lance’s chin tucked in the crook of Keith’s neck and  _fuck, he missed this boy so fucking much._

The water’s getting hotter. Maybe. Probably not. It’s probably just them and the heat washing over them from the inside, their hips starting to rock quicker as they chase after it.

It won’t be long. If Lance is anything like Keith, the stolen time to touch himself on his own wasn’t enough. Not even with the other on their minds - their name on their tongues. It wasn’t enough.  _Isn’t_ enough. But now Lance is standing here right in front of him, noises bitten off as he presses his mouth to Keith’s neck.

And it’s more than enough.

It’s everything.

Keith’s eyes squeeze shut, the pleasure hitting him like a punch to the stomach as he comes between them - as Lance comes between them - as they ease themselves down between the slick and sticky skin with shallow thrusts.

Lance shakes in his arms but his hold around him only grows more affectionate, his cheek coming to rest comfortably on Keith’s wet shoulder.

And all at once, as he holds him close, Keith’s chest is filled in all the right places, “I missed you…” His heart no longer has that very specifically shaped hole, “I thought about you…” Everything is exactly as it should be. “I love you.”

 


	17. Masturbation - Seduction - Collaring - Orgasm Denial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **October 17th**  
>  “I’ll tell you but you’re not gonna like it.”  
>  **Masturbation | Seduction | Collaring | Orgasm Denial**  
>  _Additional tags: lance is a little dom-y in this one lads, restraints, established relationship, voltron universe_

Lance is on cloud nine.

He’s wearing his favorite fancy robe… He’s stretched out all nice and comfy on his bed… He’s get Keith naked and tied to a chair in front of him, begging him to cum…

You know, just all his favorite stuff.

And to be fair, the actual begging hasn’t happened yet, but it’s coming. It’s brewing, the way Keith’s arms are tied behind his back making his struggle against the chair that much more entertaining. Oh yeah. It’s coming.

Lance lets out a dramatic exhale, his hand slipping down his parted robe, fingers brushing against the cool sheer fabric. Keith’s just finally gotten to that stage where he stops trying to act like he doesn’t care what Lance is doing. It lasted longer tonight than their previous times, but now he’s all in, glare fixed on where Lance pleases himself with generous strokes on his bed.

And Lance doesn’t have to be a mind-reader to see that it’s getting to him - watching - the visual on top of the sensation of the toy they picked up from the market as a joke. But now it’s only funny for Lance. Because he gets to watch too. He gets to take in Keith’s bottom half squirming against the chair, his hard cock sheathed by the flexible toy that moves on Lance’s request.

He decides on a nice, slow rub. Some nice, slow suction. Taps it into the remote he has laying next to him on his bed and tilts his head in amusement as he watches the toy work over his impatient boyfriend much too slowly.

And if Lance is on cloud nine, Keith is a million feet under.

“Ugghh…” It’s a pitiful mix. Like he can’t decide if he wants to growl or moan. If he’s frustrated or aroused.

The silky robe parts further, Lance humming as he continues to touch himself. “Head up, baby…”

It’s not a lot to ask. Or at least, it wouldn’t be. If they weren’t nearing their first hour mark.

And despite all that, Keith’s still hanging onto that last shred of defiance.

That’s fine. Lance can fix that with a few taps.

He gives no warning. No hint. Just two taps and Keith’s head is flying back as the toy starts working faster over his cock, the suction concentrated at the head, his toes curl where his feet are bound apart to the chair legs.

Lance smiles, setting the remote down to appreciate his work. “There we go…”

He gets a better look at the chunky black leather around Keith’s neck like this. How it strains against his sweaty skin when his head is tilted back. How it moves under his adam’s apple as he swallows noises Lance  _knows_ he told him not to hide.

And there’s that look - that building tension and lips parting, ready for the heat to overtake him and-

Lance taps the  _off_ selection on the remote. Robs him of it. Watches with growing amusement as Keith lets out a strangled groan of aggravation, eyes squeezed shut as his orgasm is swept out from under him  _again._

What does that make this…

Number five…?

“ _Fuuuck.”_

“Don’t be rude,” Lance warns him. “You have to be nice to get what you want.”

Keith’s chest is heaving - slick with his own sweat from an hour of buildup and denial. “Let me  _cum.”_

Lance perks up at that, feigning like he just heard incorrectly as he brings his legs over the bed to sit. “I’m sorry - did you not just hear me say ‘don’t be rude’?”

Keith’s glaring at him. Not real anger. Never real anger. Just aggravation with the situation, like he always does. He usually doesn’t get this wound up this fast though.

Lance moves from the bed, robe flowing gracefully behind him as he makes his way to where he’s under undivided attention.

Keith’s breathing heavily over here, fire blazing in those dark eyes as Lance leans in close.

He gets a fistful of Keith’s hair, sweaty at the roots as he uses his hold to tilt his head back and bare his neck. Keith doesn’t have a choice, but he has the choice to keep that eye contact or not. And oh boy, does he ever.

Now that he’s got his attention, Lance uses his other hand to loop his pointer finger under the collar around his neck, voice gentle but stern as he reminds him. “What’s  _this mean?”_

Keith swallows thickly, gaze heavy as he takes a moment…tries to decide if he’s going to play ball or not… And then, heated… “Yours.”

But that’s not good enough. Not by a long shot.

Lance tightens his grip in his hair, tone icy. “Do  _better.”_

It has Keith’s eyelashes fluttering in that beautifully hazy confusion of angry arousal. But it lands. “It means…I belong to you.”

Lance looks him over, pleased, “That’s right…” loving the surge of energy that rushes his chest. Especially when he says it. “And as long as you’re wearing this, who decides when or if you even  _get_ to cum?”

Because Keith’s hazing over. Loosening. Finally getting to that stage where it’s clear he knows exactly how well he fits in the palm of Lance’s hand. “…you do.”

It’s a beautiful transformation.

Just takes a little doing to get him there, is all. That’s half the fun.

Lance’s smile is satisfied. And before he lets his hair go, he leans down to slot their mouths together, leaving Keith’s mouth red and raw and hungry as he asks it, Lance’s back to him as he moves toward the bed again.

“You’re-… …how long, though… …until you let me cum…”

And oh, the grin that dances across Lance’s face, hidden from his love…

“I’ll tell you, but you’re not gonna like it.”

 


	18. Fucking Machine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **October 18th**  
>  ”You should have seen it.”  
>  **Fucking Machine | ~~Latex | Role Reversal | Xenophilia~~  
>  _Additional tags: this one’s short lads, @k-baby universe (but you don’t have to be familiar with it at all), takes place before keith shows his face/they meet, camboy keith_**

You should have seen it.

k-baby - spread out on his stomach on the floor - fucked within an inch of his life by the machine behind him.

Lance got the special invite to the channel and logged on immediately and now here he is, mouth dropped open in awe as he watches the dildo fuck in and out of him on live stream.

People are commenting in the chat below - cheering him on - claiming their dicks are better than anything the machine can dish out  - but Lance minimizes it. He doesn’t give a shit about what they’re saying. All he wants to see is K, back arching as he gathers to his knees for a more pleasurable angle.

His face is cropped out of the shot. Just like everything else. But his cute little cut-off moans are as hot as ever.

Lance breathes out slowly through his nose, the rush kicking in as he palms himself through his sweatpants. He’s already hard. It doesn’t take too much, honestly. Not with how hot and tight K’s ass looks as the dildo slides in and out at that consistent, heavy speed.  

And oh…what Lance wouldn’t give to be there - in its shoes. To treat K right and maybe smack that cute ass a little as he fucks him as quickly or as slowly as they please.

He slips his hand in his pants. Pulls his cock out. Jerks himself to the thought of it and the sight of this gorgeous boy starting to rock his hips back into the machine, meeting its thrusts.

The whirring of the mechanics almost cover up his breathing. But Lance can just hear them through his headphones. Can just pick up the strangled little hums escaping high in his throat. It’s all lurking under the buzz of the machine pistoning away.

And as long as Lance can hear him, the rest is all gravy. Like the sweet dip of his lower back. And the way his blunt fingernails drag over the tile floor. And the tensing of his lean abs as he straightens his top half, feeling the stretch as he’s filled and fucked.

It all has the heat washing over Lance quickly - probably too quickly, but it doesn’t matter. He eats it all up. Soaks it all in. Gets off on that shit and sits there, eyes unable to look away even after he’s came.

And he’ll think about it days later. A recurring memory. He won’t be able to get it off his mind.

But really, can you blame him? It was the hottest thing ever. Top Three, hands down.

Honestly… You really should have seen it.


	19. Cock-Warming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **October 19th**  
>  ~~Public | Formal Wear | Straitjacket~~ | **Cock-Warming**  
>  _Additional tags: i thought cockwarming was one thing but google tells me it’s something much more lame but im just gonna do it my way, thanks for coming to my ted talk_

Keith has seen a lot of cute shit in his life, but nothing comes anywhere  _close_ to the cuteness of Lance on his knees in front of him, sitting patiently with his hands in his lap and a twinkle in his eye and Keith’s dick in his mouth.

Keith’s not even hard, but that’s kind of the point. They’ve already done their thing. Both of them have already gotten off and came down and all that shit and now Lance is just sitting there - like he’s told - his knees shimmied up to press against the foot of the couch and his mouth nice and silky warm around Keith’s spent cock.

Keith changes the channel on the TV… Slouches back to get more comfortable… Purposely doesn’t give Lance any attention even though he knows the boy between his legs is desperate for it. He always is. But especially now, with nothing else to do or entertain himself with…

Lance’s tongue squirms under the weight of Keith’s cock. It’s not the first time, but Keith can now distinguish between the feeling of him trying to swallow with a mouth-full and the feeling of him trying to act up - trying to start shit. This is the first one.

But really…how long until he strays…?

Keith clears his throat, gaze fixed to the TV even though he’d much rather be taking in that top tier cuteness currently staring up at him - waiting - brow furrowed and eyes dancing between Keith’s like if he just looks at him hard enough then he’ll get the attention he wants.

Lance shifts on his knees… Keeps the eye contact… Tries to swallow again but it’s an almost impossible task, drool dribbling past his stretched lips and down his chin.

And it’s coming. Keith can feel it. It’s only a matter of time…

 _“Mm_ mm…”

It escapes like a whine - very quiet but needy from the back of his throat.

And it may be too cute for words, but it’s not what Keith expects out of him.

“Don’t pout…” he mumbles, interest half-assed on the outside even though he wants to reach down and hug the stuffing out of him on the inside. “Just sit.”

It’s not the attention Lance wants. Not what he needs.

They both know it. Just like how Keith already knows it’s coming, the tingle of pleasure dancing up him all the same as Lance’s tongue squirms under him again. Only this time, it’s on purpose. This time, it slides all the way up, the tip of his tongue flicking past the head of Keith’s cock and teasing at the tip.

Keith frowns, dropping his attention from the TV down to the boy between his legs, “Hey,” tone clipped and warning.

Lance stills. Feigns innocence like he does so well, doe eyes blinking up at him as if he has no idea why he’s being scolded.

Keith swears he’s got the perfect face for this.

Still. “Don’t gimme that.”

The doe-eyes drop immediately. Reveal his true intentions. Stay locked on as he wiggles his tongue again - more tingles of pleasure.

Keith’s stern with it this time.  _“Lance.”_  Especially when those lips around him quirk into a mischievous grin. “Lance…if you get me hard right now I’m not using it to fuck you.”

His warning for the future seems to take a backseat to the excitement of now, but Keith knows it’s coming. All he has to do is give him three good seconds before Lance is rationalizing in his head and dropping into another pout, spit dribbling down his chin again with his mopey,  _“Mm.”_

And really…he  _has_ been pretty patient so far. Everything considered, he’s been doing a very good job. So…

Keith drops a hand down, attention going back to the TV but his fingers coming to card through Lance’s hair and scratch lightly at his scalp.

He can’t help it. Especially with how Lance keeps his mouth still but leans into Keith’s hand, eager for any and all attention. It’s so adorable Keith wishes he could take a picture.

But he won’t.

For now, he’ll just enjoy the moment - the feeling of Lance’s warm, velvety mouth - the sight of his eyes easing closed at the fingers scratching his scalp.

There’ll be time for everything else later.

Much,  _much_ later.


	20. Hot-Dogging

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **October 20th**  
>  ~~Urophagia~~ | **Hot-Dogging** | ~~Emeto | Dirty talk~~  
>  _Additional tags: Lance soothes overworked Keith into coming to bed with him._

Lance knows he’s not helping in this exact moment in time. Knows Keith really should be concentrating on his preparations for this meetup with alien royalty.

But he also knows a stressed out boyfriend when he sees one - can literally see the tension in his shoulders even with his shirt still on. And a stressed out Keith brings nothing but tension into everything else. Hence, Lance’s presence behind him, admiring his boyfriend’s cute bubbly ass now that his pants are around his ankles.

But if you think that’s gonna stop Keith from working…oh boy…

“Take a break, babe…” Lance is using his calming voice. The one Keith seems to react to the most. Except it’s falling on deaf ears tonight - Keith’s attention focused on the holoscreen in front of him.

“I will…” he mumbles, but doesn’t move an inch from his spot. It’s almost impressive how focused he stays standing like this, his elbows resting on the desk and ass popped out behind him as Lance rocks against him.

What Lance wouldn’t give for some honest to god concentration every once in a while. But since that doesn’t seem to be within the realm of possibility…

He lets out an easy sigh, eyes glancing away from the screen over Keith’s shoulder and down to where he slides his hard cock between those bubbly cheeks. It might take a while, but Lance will get him there. He’ll ease him into a gooey puddle and then he’ll have no desire other than to go fall into bed with him and relax.

It’s just…taking a while…

“How do I erase a whole section on this thing…” At least Keith’s tone has dropped down a few tiers on the stressed scale.

Lance flicks his attention back to the screen, assessing the question and then sacrificing a hand to tap a few holographic buttons.

The dark work room flashes with a short pulse of blue, the unwanted section on the screen disappearing.

“Thanks.”

“Mhm.”

Okay back to that booty.

Keith’s fingers tap tap tap away, but Lance’s trace dull nails over the swell of his ass a little further down, not getting any sort of reaction until he uses his palms to cup both cheeks and give a little squeeze.

“Hhh…”

Interesting.

That could be a sigh of annoyance or a sigh of approval.

He simply won’t know…until he…gives another  _squeeze-_

“Lance…”

“Yes darling…?”

The tapping has stopped…for a moment…and Lance still can’t decipher his name being said like that. It’s either a warning or positive acknowledgement.

But he’s not saying anything else. And he can’t see his face. And Lance likes to think that he’s reeling Keith in with his not so sneaky ways, so…

Lance slips his hands under Keith’s hips. Tilts them further and gets that ass in the perfect position, Keith’s pale skin blue in the holoscreen light. The tapping starts again but he’s also not fighting it, which means Lance has the silent go-ahead to purse his lips, collecting enough spit in his mouth to slowly let drip down between them and slick things up again.

Still no protest from Keith, who keeps his hips tilted even as Lance’s hands move down to cup his ass cheeks as he slides his cock between them, getting that good warm pretend fuck started up again.

It’s slow and almost relaxing and it has Lance forgetting himself for a breath, too interested in how the head of his cock peeks out under Keith’s tailbone when he rolls his hips particularly deeply.

The breath from Keith is easier to recognize this time. Easier to place. Especially as Lance makes sure to tease him - parts his cheeks and aims his spit for Keith’s entrance and rubs himself there after, pressing the head of his cock to his hole just enough that it’s almost enough for him too when he slides past instead.

And the tapping has stopped. He somehow missed that. Somehow missed just how good of a job he’s doing, because Keith’s head is definitely hanging a little lower where he keeps himself up on his elbows.

It’s only a matter of time.

But Lance can’t be the one to say it. It can’t be Lance’s idea. No. Keith has to decide on his own that it’s time…

“Mm…”

Lance gives him a squeeze. Offers a feigned, “Hm…?”

And the way Keith’s words slowly dance off his tongue… It’s to die for. “Maybe…I should uh… Come back to this later…”

Oh yeah. Hook, line, and sinker.

Lance grins, eyelids heavy as he snakes a hand around to Keith’s lap.

“Good idea, babe.”


	21. Bukakke

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **October 21st**  
>  “Impressive, truly.”  
>  **Bukakke** | ~~Food play | Suspension | Branding~~
> 
>  
> 
> _**Additional tags: lance/unnamed garrison people, yes it’s happening, ive been secretly headcannoning lance as a huge cumslut in a group setting for years and no one can take that away from me, this is literally just lance being pretty and getting cummed on and loving it alright just so we’re clear_

All the higher ranking members at the Garrison know the name Lance McClain. But it’s not for his academics. And it’s not for his flying technique. And it’s not for his skills in combat.

All of these things about him are true - his brain - his capability - but it’s not what’s on their minds when he’s in the middle of them like this, on his knees and stripped to his briefs and mouth open wide, heavy eyelids while he waits on bated breath for them.

He’s a sight to be seen… Glistens in the dim lights, this superior’s cum beading thick and white on his dark skin…

It’s pooled at his collar bones… Painted across his face… Sticky in his hair but he craves that shit - literally eats that shit up - crawls over to where a veteran fourth-year rubs quickly at her clit, three fingers pumping and Lance lets his head be held in front of her pussy, the grip in the back of his hair unnecessary because this is exactly where he wants to be - on his knees - mouth open and eyes watching and eager as her friend eggs her along over her shoulder and then she’s coming, Lance’s eyes squeezing shut but mouth staying wide open.

It’s warm and slick and perfect against his face - against his tongue. He swallows it for her and feels his entire body vibrate as she bends down to slip her fingers into his mouth. Tells him to suck on them. Tells him he did a good job. Tells her friend to cum on him next and holy shit Lance is in heaven.

He doesn’t even need a cooldown. And no one else in the circle is taking a cool down. And he doesn’t fucking want one - he just wants the order to sit back and open up as two lieutenants step forward and jerk themselves off - add to the mess on Lance’s face and chest.

The next day, they’ll pass in the halls as if nothing happened. A nod. Maybe a knowing salute if Lance is feeling especially bratty. But that’s the beauty of it. The secrecy. The classified knowledge that Lance will be right back on his knees in front of them weeks later, eager and ready for them.

Waiting, lips parted, for what he craves.

For the attention.

For the final orgasm, his entire body dripping with his superior’s cum as they sit back and admire him, someone’s fingers in his mouth one last time while they say it.

“Impressive… Truly…”


	22. Spanking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **October 22nd**  
>  “I know how you love to play games.”  
>  **Spanking** | ~~Cuckolding | Hand-jobs | Threesome (or more)~~  
>  _Additional tags: this got away from me, **trans keith, afab language,** bondage, slight humiliation but keith likes it, established relationship, im also stealing the suspension prompt from day 21 bc i really wanna do suspension _

It’s the day before Keith’s birthday but it might as well be Lance’s, because walking into the castle security room to see the love of his life suspended off the floor, limbs spread apart by Altean magic, is the best gift he’s ever received in his life.

Especially as Keith’s head whips up toward him, bangs falling over that look of knowing dread flashing in his eyes as he says it. “Oh no… Not  _you…”_

Lance wants to laugh until he cries - always one for bearing witness to his beloved falling prey to Altean traps just like the rest of them. But he stays gracious. Well…as gracious as one can be with a shit-eating grin slowly forming on their face.

“Well well…” he takes a few steps closer, inspecting how the bonds leave him spread and hanging on his stomach. “Someone tried to do something they weren’t supposed to.”

Keith is, unsurprisingly, not in the mood. “Will you just let me down?”

“If you tell me what you did.”

“Nothing - I was just-…” he struggles, a fish out of water, “…it doesn’t matter, just fucking help me.”

Lance rounds behind him. Looks him over. “I could.” Puts a finger to his chin as he tilts his head to admire his boyfriend’s ass where his legs are parted.  _“Ooorrrr…”_

Keith’s already groaning. Is already so aware of the fact that he didn’t want Lance to be the one to find him because he knew he wouldn’t be able to resist temptation.

“Don’t you growl at me - you’re the one who got yourself strung up like this.”

Keith grows silent at that. But the frustration is still rolling off him in waves.

Lance can help with that. “Not that it matters but…” He takes a step closer, Keith’s side at hip level as he loops his pointer finger under the waistband of his pants. “You came to dismantle the establishment in your comfy shorts?”

The fabric is soft beneath his touch. Definitely not something he’d imagine the Mission Impossible crew wearing as they wire down from the ceiling.

Keith huffs, unable to smack the hand away. “Shut up - I wasn’t here for that.”

“Hm. But you were definitely doing something you shouldn’t have been, right?” His finger slips out from the waistband, freeing up his entire hand to slide over Keith’s ass cheek and stay there comfortably. “Otherwise the security system wouldn’t’ve stopped you and tied you up like this.”

Keith doesn’t struggle under the touch - just tilts his head as far as he can to try to see Lance. “What are you even saying?”

And oh…the perfect opening. Lance grins. “I’m saying you’ve been a naughty boy.”

He can’t see his face. Can’t gauge his reaction. But the way he grows suddenly very very still under Lance’s hand says all that needs to be said.

Lance hums to himself, sliding his hand from one ass cheek to the other in consideration. “Think I might just have to handle you myself.”

Another stretch of silence - thick but not uncomfortable. Because they’ve already done this tons of times, honestly. And who are they to pass up an opportunity that the castle has so graciously granted them?

The Altean restrains buzz softly in the air as Lance uses the hand under Keith’s stomach to bring him just a little higher, his entire body hovering just at the right height now. The right height for-

_smack!_

Keith’s back straightens, seemingly surprised that the crack against his ass actually landed. And that quick, sharp intake of breath? It’s music to Lance’s ears.

“What, you thought I was kidding?” Lance is grinning. Can’t help it.

Especially as Keith huffs. “Just didn’t think you were evil enough to do it here.”

“You know I love you.”

“Yeah,” this time it’s a scoff of a laugh, “I know how you love to play  _games.”_

Lance ponders on it for a moment. Weighs the validity of Keith’s statement.

Because wait…

Is he really gonna spank his boyfriend out in the open like this…?

Yyyyup!

_smack!_

Keith’s head whips back at the second hit, his face no doubt a beautiful mix of embarrassment and pleasure. Because as much as he likes to pretend, this boy’s always gotten off to Lance spanking him. So!

 _smack!_  Lance rubs his hand over his clothed ass cheek.  _smack!_  Slides it over to the other one.  _smack!_  Enjoys the way Keith’s fists clench in the restraints and the little struggle escapes the back of his throat.

And really, Lance has to grin in approval. “You look cute as fuck like this, ya know.”

Because Keith’s breath is coming a little heavier - a little bit more ragged - that growl rumbling from his chest again, but it doesn’t do him any favors with how it gets clipped into a higher pitched  _“m_ -mm” as that hand cracks against him again.

He’s enjoying himself. No doubt about it. It’s no secret that he gets off to the certain unloading relief of not having to control anything for once. And honestly, Lance is all for taking the reins. Especially if it means he gets to play around with that ass.

_smack!_

“So jiggly…”

Keith’s groan takes a flustered edge at that one.

Still doesn’t change Lance’s mind though.

“What?” he chuckles, giving another smack and watching the sweet ripple of impact with eager eyes. “You got a juicy ass, babe.”

“Oh my god…” He can just imagine Keith’s blush. Can hear the embarrassment in his tone. “Will you shut up…”

“Nope,” he affirms then takes a step away, “Can’t make me,” only to return this time between Keith’s parted legs. “Fuck, I could play your booty like bongos if I wanted to.”

He wants to.

“Lance.”

Okay, he won’t. For the sake of The Mood.

But that doesn’t mean he’ll back down on his hamming.

Lance clears his throat as he steps close between Keith’s legs from behind, fingers messing with the row of buttons keeping those comfy shorts closed down the side of each leg. “Should we see what’s goin’ on under  _here?”_

That gets him a wiggle, Keith’s waist twisting in a terrible attempt to protest.

And honestly, Lance is so confident in what his love wants that he asks it. Right out. “What? Is that a no?”

Because he knows he’s gonna get some huffing. And a half-assed mumble. And Keith’s gonna pretend for like two seconds that he’s upset, but then he’s going to stop moving. And he’s going to wait patiently. And he’s going to huff again, only now it’s because Lance is taking his sweet time with the buttons, no particular sense of urgency as he untucks them one…by one…by one…

Lance makes him wait for it, letting the soft fabric cover him for as long as possible before slowly slipping it away…  Slowly revealing the treasure underneath…

Lance can feel the tingle of arousal work down his body at the sight of him, exposed as he hangs defenseless in front of him… “Damn, Keith,” he smirks,  _“Someone’s_  a little desperate for attention, huh?”

The shorts drop to the floor, no longer needed. He hadn’t even noticed the crotch of them were soaked through, but it definitely makes sense now.

Because Keith’s pussy throbs on display, all the attention clearly working him up. Even as he grumbles a breathy, “Stop staring, you asshole…”

“But it’s so pretty.” The desire to tease is unstoppable. “And I thought your  _ass_ was juicy - holy shit.”

“Jesus christ…” He’s starting to tremble a little - legs spread.

Lance can’t pass up the opportunity. It’s payback for all those times Keith teased him. “Damn, you want it that bad, huh?”

Oof, he could totally get off just like this, he’s not gonna lie.

Keith shifts in the restraints, knees trying to press together but to no avail. He’s definitely stuck spread eagle like this. Or at least, until Lance helps him down. Which he will. But first…

“W-…” Keith tries to tilt his head and look over his shoulder. Tries to see. “What the fuck are you doing back there.”

He can’t of course.

“Praying.”

_“Praying?”_

“Yeah.” Lance holds his hands together in front of him for dramatic effect, just in case Keith  _can_ see. “You’re supposed to pray before you eat, ya know.”

Keith’s head tilts back toward the ceiling, his eyes no doubt squeezed shut as he suffers. “Oh my fucking god, Lance…”

It’s worth it. “Alright done.” And now, his hands under Keith’s stomach again to reposition him higher - “Just gonna…” - the Altean magic humming again as his entire body raises until Lance is face-level with his meal. “Perfect.”

And what an appetizing meal it is.

“You really are super wet, babe.”

“I swear to god…”

“What if I like…motor-boated your pussy right now?”

“I’d f-” but it’s too late, because Lance is leaning forward, licking up a nice wet mouthful of Keith and dragging his face against him with a dramatic  _‘mmrr-mmm-mrrr-mmr’_  that has Keith’s entire body tensing with pleasure and:  _“Ohhh my god- you’re so fucking dead when I get outta here…”_

It’s so funny that Lance doesn’t even register the threat, his hands wrapping high around Keith’s upper thighs as he slows to a more reasonably paced rhythm.

It’s kind of a long way to go for a joke. Leaves his face messy and floor messy with Keith’s slick but honestly it’s worth it. And he likes the mess anyway. And Keith’s head is hanging now, hips tilting back so Lance can eat him out as fully as possible.

Lance hums against him, finding his clit with his tongue and sucking it lightly into his mouth as he smacks his hand against Keith’s ass for good measure. Just to tie that back in. Just to feel Keith pressing back against his mouth from the impact.

And honestly, Lance is getting pretty hard himself. It’s impossible not to with the bitten back moans floating from the boy in front of him, unable to cover his mouth with his wrists restrained.

They’re gonna have to take this elsewhere soon.

_smack!_

_“Fffuck Lance-”_  Keith’s aggravation is rolling - he wants to touch - Lance can tell by the way his bound hands flex to fists - how he rolls his hips back to move against the tongue lapping at his entrance - purposely trying to get it to sneak in.

And come on now. All he has to do is ask.

Lance flicks the tip of his tongue quickly but just too shallowly where Keith wants it. Teases him. Drinks in his groans of frustration and then gives him what he wants.

It has Keith’s thighs trembling beautifully, his breath ragged as Lance fucks him with his tongue and plays with his juicy clit with the pad of his thumb.

He’s definitely close. Lance knows those noises. Knows the pulse of Keith’s warm, wet pussy around his tongue. Can’t wait to bring him there and get him off and then take him back to his room and bury his aching cock in him.

“Fu-h…hhhuh…” Oh yeah, it’s coming.  _“…hhuuuh_ -Lance…” It’s coming. It’s-  _“Lance-”_

Keith’s body surges - thighs try to squeeze shut but there’s nowhere for him to go - nowhere for him to hide as he hangs there and is forced to let his orgasm roll through him, voice echoing off the security room’s high ceiling and Lance  _knows_ he’s gonna be embarrassed about that, but he’ll reassure him later. When he’s come down from it. When he isn’t dripping on the floor, Lance’s tongue slurping up his pussy in slow, coaxing licks.

He’ll reassure him then.

Keith’s head is hanging when Lance finally makes his way back around to face him, eyes heavy and pupils blown in satisfaction when Lance tilts his face up by the chin.

It’s his favorite kind of Keith.

The soft fabric of Keith’s shorts slips over Lance’s face as he uses them to wipe himself dry. He’ll return them in a second. But first…

“So…” he grins, coming in close when he asks it. “Finally wanna tell me what you were doing to get strung up like this…?”

Keith’s chest is still rising and falling, but he’s loose now - hungry for more. “I…” he swallows thickly, drawing it out. Then, “I was trying…to disconnect the security cameras…in the command room…” but the small smile that graces his lips says it all, “…so we could fuck on the deck…”

Lance blinks, the reveal taking a moment to fully wrap around his brain. But when it does… Holy shit.

“I love you so much,” he smiles, heart full of giddy little mischief.

Keith’s eyes fall closed, satisfaction clear. “Alright… Lemme down…”

Lance is quick to work this time - a whole new sense of urgency coursing through his veins as he reaches up to do just that. “You got it.”


	23. Scars - Size Difference

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **October 23rd**  
>  **Scars** | ~~Master/Slave | Shibari~~ | **Size Difference**  
>  Additional Tags: copping out and using galra guard keith and altean royalty lance, me @ me: make it short sweet and to the point!, also me @ me: and don’t forget to make it sad for no reason!!!

This is why Lance loves Keith’s hands on him.

The heavy drag. The graze of his sharp nails. The weight he probably doesn’t realize he’s using as he presses Lance to the sheets by the base of his throat.

It’s heavy and intense and he could kill Lance with one simple move but it’d never happen. It’s the farthest thing from his mind. The polar opposite end of his duty and anyway, with the way he keeps coming back - both knowing they shouldn’t be meeting like this - Lance sees no reason why he would even dream it.

Keith plucks him from the ground so easily. Doesn’t even look like he’s putting forth any effort as he moves him - tries to take great care, but sometimes it’s difficult when they’re both worked up like this.

But Lance doesn’t care. He craves it, actually. Wants those big hands on him every second of every day. Wishes he could be tossed over his shoulder like this every time they see each other even though it’s impossible. Craves, desperately, that amazing stretch, his back arching as he lowers himself onto Keith’s hard cock, those big eyes watching him as he works up a nice bounce to drive them both over the edge.

It’s how he gets those hands on him again. How he gets pressed into the mattress and fucked so deeply that he feels it for days at a time after. No one else can give it to him. No Altean. No suitor. No one fills Lance up and keeps him in his place like Keith can.

And maybe that makes him dependent. Maybe the rush of heat that spreads over his body when he sees Keith peeling out of his armor is a crutch. But that’s erasing the equally fiery pulse in his chest - the one that lights with every thought of him - even when Keith is alone. The little hiccup in his heart as he traces his fingers over the scar tissue left from blades that were intended for him. How he wishes he could stop it from happening - that maybe they could steal themselves away - somewhere that the blades and the suitors and the rest of the world can’t find them.

That one - truly - is a feeling to be feared.

But for now he’ll focus elsewhere.

For now, he’ll smile at Keith as he passes him on the way to see his father in the throne room.

He’ll let himself be cornered in the bath springs, the warm waters rushing over them as he crawls into Keith’s lap.

He’ll trace his fingers over the scars on his chest, movements hidden under the water, as Keith draws his hands down his back and gets ready to take him over.

For now, Lance will focus on this.


	24. Pegging - Shower/Bath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **October 24th**  
>  **Pegging** | ~~Leather | Lapdances~~ | **Shower/Bath**  
>  Additional tags: Touch universe (for those who dont know - touch starved keith and cuddle buddy lance fall in love with each other), trans keith but no afab language

It’s been a year and a half, and Keith still sometimes has a hard time believing that all this is real. That he’s Lance’s. That Lance is his. That pretty soon here they’ll be moving in together - sharing the same space like they do now, only permanently.

It’s scary. A good kind of scary, though. A kind of scary that the water washes away as they stand here in the shower, completely at ease and pressed close. Keith’s arms wrap around Lance from behind - the perfect spot to gently cling onto him, his head resting on his shoulder as Lance rocks back ever so slowly onto his strap-on.

They’ve been standing here for what feels like forever, but Keith is in total bliss. Lance is in total bliss. Everything around them easy and steamy and dream-like.

They’d gotten back from the pumpkin patch about an hour ago, a little chilly but ready to warm up in the best possible way. And now the bathroom is nice and hazy. Comfortable. Easing their muscles.

Lance’s skin smells like the cinnamon apple body wash they picked up. Smells good enough to eat. But Keith’s drifting, his eyes closed peacefully and the pleasure slowly working over him as Lance continues his lazy rocking, head tilting back and a pleasant breath adding to the steam as the water hits his face.

Because he’s completely sheathed. Lance is swaying on the full feeling. Gently stroking his prostate with it.

The droplets of water roll down his bared neck and Keith can’t help but hug him closer. Can’t help but get lost in the overwhelming fullness in his chest that comes just from touching him. Can’t help but relish that sweet skin-on-skin that he had such trouble getting used to in the beginning. But now…  _Oh,_  now…

He can’t live without it.

Without Lance.

“…hey…” his murmur has Keith looking up, eyes falling to where he turns his head to talk to him over his shoulder, “…wanna kiss you…”

Keith’s heart flutters in his chest, Lance’s lips warm and wet from the spray of the shower as he meets him halfway… Kisses him back… Hears the murmured hum as he rocks back onto him and then gently eases the hold Keith has around his waist upward so he can return the embrace.

And Keith is melting. Feels so full that for a moment, he doesn’t even remember what it had felt like to be otherwise. Tightens his hug around Lance and lets his head fall back down to his shoulder, eyelashes fluttering as fingers start an easy stroke up his arm in time with his hips.

“…love you…” he murmurs, no longer afraid to say it.

Because he knows without a doubt what he’ll hear in return. The genuine emotion. The honesty, his chest rumbling under Keith’s touch just like the first time.

“Love you more, sweetheart…”


	25. Olfactophilia (Scent)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **October 25th**  
>  ~~Tickling | Scat | Boot Worship~~ | **Olfactophilia (Scent)**  
>  Additional tags: Keith accidentally Pavlov-es himself on lance’s cologne, sfw

Keith doesn’t realize what he’s done until it’s far far too late.

It had started out innocent. All with good intentions. A favor - Lance lending him a shirt to sleep in after the rest of his clothes get mysteriously misplaced by the castle’s ridiculous laundry system.

In his defense, he didn’t realize everything was going to magically transport out from under him and to some unknown location to dry.

In his defense, he was just trying to keep up with his personal chores.

In his  _defense,_  he didn’t lay down to sleep that night with the intention of jerking off in Lance’s shirt.

It just… _…happened._

And then… …happened again the next night.

And okay, yeah, it also happened the night after that but  _listen_  - he swears to god he wasn’t trying to do anything shady. It’s not like he was jerking off  _because_  he was wearing Lance’s shirt. It’s not like being in  _his clothes specifically_  really did it for him. And no…he still doesn’t know exactly what came over him all three nights in a row, but what he does know is he’s completely fucked himself.

Because now every time he’s by Lance, he’s-…

Well…

It’s his cologne. His scent. Keith gets one whiff of that familiar smell and it’s all over - has this confusingly delighted curl of something blossoming low in his belly. In broad daylight. It’s something in his brain telling him to do it. It’s his subconscious.

He’s a fucking idiot who’s accidentally Pavlov-ed himself to get turned on when he smells Lance’s cologne.

Honestly, he doesn’t know if he’s even hiding it very well. In a perfect world, this wouldn’t even be happening. Lance wouldn’t have let him borrow his shirt. Keith would have dirty clothes and be fucking happy about it because at least he wouldn’t want to climb Lance like a tree every second of every-

Err–

No. No, what he meant to say was… He wouldn’t have to deal with the issue of being turned on. It doesn’t even have anything to do with Lance specifically. Is what he meant to say. It’s not a Lance Thing.

So.

Yeah.

It’s just really a pain in the ass, is all. Feeling this every time he’s close enough to Lance that he can smell him. And his cologne. And sometimes the smell of his body soap gets in there too and it’s all just-…  _Fuck,_  it’s all just awful. Has him not wanting to be anywhere near him. Has him wanting to be  _right up close_  to him. Has him itching to reach out and bury his face in Lance’s chest and take a nice big breath in and maybe-

Maaaaybe nothing. Maybe nothing. Is…what he was going to say.

Maybe go bury himself in the deepest hole he can find and never see the light of day ag-

“You uh-… You alright, man?”

Keith blinks, unaware until this very frightening moment that he’s much too close, face screwed into a frown.

And now reality is sinking in. And he’s in the here and now. And the here and now is where he’s got Lance by the hem of his shirt, the fabric balled in his fists.

Everyone else has left the room he didn’t even realize he was in. And god damn it, he’s had just about enough of this shit.

Lance swallows thickly as Keith pulls in close, giving up and breathing in the insanely addicting smell of his cologne with a long inhale, the tip of his nose brushing up the span of his neck.

It’s delicious.

Has him licking his lips, still close.

Has Lance’s chuckle hesitant, “Uh…” cautious as he pushes out his words. “Am I uh-… Am I the only one terrified and aroused right now?”

It’s absolutely not what Keith’s expecting to hear, but has his brain lighting up in all the right places, Lance letting out a heated breath as Keith goes ahead and laps his tongue over the heated skin of his neck, drinking it all in.

Fuck.

Okay.

Yeah, maybe it  _is_ a Lance Thing.

“Oookay,” Lance is chuckling cautiously again, clearly unsure of what to do with this sudden attention, but also clearly enjoying it as he tries out different positions of his hands on Keith’s back. “Okay. Alright. Uh… So like- _oh-”_

Keith cuts him off with his lips, slotting hungrily to Lance’s because fuck it, at this point. There’s no point in hiding it anymore. Especially if Lance is gonna kiss him back like this - is gonna let him lick into his mouth and pull away to stare at him for a moment more, swallowing down the full feeling in his lungs and then dropping his mouth to Lance’s neck again.

It’s where he smells like his cologne the most. Where he must rub some below his ear for blessed occasions such as these. And look, Keith’s definitely going to appreciate that in full. Is going to drink up and let himself bask in his fucked up little situation he got himself in.

And Lance seems totally on board to help him through it. Which…

Yeah.

Yes.

Okay. Turns out it’s for sure just a Lance Thing.

 


	26. Roleplay - Toys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **October 26th**  
>  ~~Lactation~~ | **Roleplay** | ~~Smiles/Laughter~~ | **Toys**  
>  Additional tags: cop!keith roleplay, established relationship, keith is a little dom-y and lance is into that shit

Lance doesn’t think Keith’s even listening when he tells him. He’s pretty sure what he’s said has gone in one ear and out the other.

And then it happens.

It’s getting late, their date night slowly ticking past with neither hide nor tail of Lance’s actual date. He’s about to text him again when the knock sounds on his door. 

Ah…there he is.

Lance opens it with  _perhaps_ a bit of an attitude - alright,  _guilty_ \- but he’s been waiting for almost an hour now. “You know if you’re gonna be late, the polite thing to do is-”

…his words climb back in, regardless of how his mouth falls open when he finally sets his eyes on the visitor at his door. Because… Because it’s Keith… But he’s…

“Are you Lance McClain?” He’s…

Lance gawks. Feels like the attitude’s been slapped right out of him. But he’s gotta-… He has to- “Yes…”

He needs a second to cope. To take in the very unexpected but atrociously enjoyable view of Keith on his doorstep. Except…his normal date night clothes…they’re swapped out for the crisp navy of…

“Gotten several noise complaints,” Keith carries on, hands resting on the thick black belt that slims his waist and broadens his shoulders like a dream. “Disturbing the peace.”

It’s… _Holy shit, this is happening._  Keith  _was_  listening. Holy shit holy shit he looks so fucking good. “I uh-” okay, focus, “I’m sure I don’t know where the noise could be coming from, officer.” Lance opens the door further, heart racing and excited mischief starting to bubble to the surface. “But I’d be happy to let you see for yourself.”

Keith seems to ponder for a moment, but then steps forward, following Lance into the apartment without another word.

Holy fuck.

Lance can’t stuff down the giddy smile on his face as he leads him further in - just has to get it out of his system so he can finally turn, more stoic now while he greedily takes Keith in again.

Because he  _really_ fills that uniform out in the way Lance knew he would. He’s got the shoulders for it. Has the sleeves rolled up about a quarter of the way - which Lance is pretty sure isn’t regulation, but honestly who gives a shit because it’s super hot.

“Anyone else here with you?”

Lance smiles, but it’s quickly losing its innocence. “No sir…” Especially as he takes a step closer - dares to run his fingers under the neat black tie but not tug. “Just you and me…”

Keith watches him with carefully trained eyes. Doesn’t break character. Fuck, Lance would kill to know what’s going on in his head right now.

“I could show you the back room if you’d like.”

“What’s in the back room?”

“The bed.” Yeah, Lance’s grin is definitely far from innocent now.

Keith’s eyes sweep over him, prettier than ever with his bangs swept back clean, but there’s something else dancing in there tonight as well. Focus…? Like he’s…making sure to concentrate?

“That won’t be necessary.”

Aw, c’mon. “It’s really no trouble.”

“No,” he says again, “It’s not necessary because  _you’re_ the disturbance.” That has Lance’s head snapping back for a second in insult. Just before he can continue. “I’m gonna need to bring you in for questioning.”

 _What!_  Lance frowns. Perhaps…forgets that none of this shit is real but: “What’d I even do?”

But Keith remains cool, hands never touching him as he explains himself. “Attempted seduction.” …okay, yeah. Guilty on that part, but- “Gratuitous beauty.”

Lance narrows his eyes. Wait a minute… “I’m-…” He’s bringing him in for being too beautiful?

Well…

Okay. Maybe that isn’t so bad.

“Are you carrying any weapons on you?”

Okay yeah, he can work with this. “Maybe.” Drops his hands from Keith’s tie to his belt. “Looks like you’re packin’ some heat yourself, officer-”

Lance’s vision suddenly flips - suddenly does a 180 as he’s spun around and walked toward the kitchen counter and _yeeees finally, those hands are on him._

“Head down.” Keith’s into it. Getting stern. “Hands on the counter.”

Ooo boy, is he ever.

Lance grins to himself, the sudden roughness sending all those interested tingles to his belly as he follows orders. For now.

The counter is cold against his cheek. Against his palms. Against his chest even through his shirt. But his skin is on fire.

And Keith’s voice is right up on him from behind.

“Spread your legs.”

The urge to hum in delight is far too tempting. “Mm, yes  _sir.”_

Keith’s gotta be pulling some great faces back there. Damn it, he really wishes he could see. Except that would require movement and he’s already _really_  really into the feeling of Keith’s hands patting up his leg - from the ankle all the way up. And maybe if Lance helps him a little bit they’ll go hi-

“Hands down.” Keith’s clipped with it. Grabs Lance’s wrist and tugs his hand back up where it’s supposed to be. Uses his other hand to hold his head down by the back of the neck and  _oh boy, that’s the shit Lance is talking about._ “Don’t… Move…”

He murmurs it right into his ear. Gets that hot breath doing nice things to Lance’s body. Makes sure to stay pressed tight, the corners of his badge digging into Lance’s shoulder blade until he’s made his point.

And…

“Don’t move…” Lance echoes in confirmation. “Got it.”

Keith steps away. Leaves him open.

Yeah. He’s gonna move.

There’s not even a chance to do the right thing before his straying hands get caught again, this time not brought back up, but instead held tightly together behind Lance’s back. Lance dares to lift his head up. Dares to sneak a peek behind his shoulder and is so fucking glad he does, because it means he gets to see Keith, eyes dark as he keeps Lance’s wrists held tight with one hand and slips the handcuffs from his belt with the other and  _yes yes yes he was so hoping they’d get to use those._

“You really have no self control, do you.” It’s not a question.

Lance answers anyway, smile proud. “No, sir.”

And he can just see the real Keith peek out for a moment, his attempt at stifling a fond eye-roll completely missing its mark. But then he’s back at it. Flicking the cuffs open and bringing them down and the metal is nice and chilly around Lance’s wrists as they’re clicked closed.

He’s officially cuffed. Officially has the sexiest officer on the planet nudging his legs apart again with his knee. Gets to feel those hands frisk up his thighs again, more forward this time. More of a feel-up than a pat-down.

And that’s totally fine with Lance. Because that means that eventually those hands are gonna get high enough. They’re gonna slip over his inner thighs and cup him a little through his pants and then palm forward, Lance’s swallow thick and heart racing as he’s felt up - already hard. But what’s even better is what comes next, that hand giving one more grope and then sliding directly back, fingers running over what he’s had hiding all along.

Keith stills.

Must be having a genuine reaction behind him, but when he speaks, it’s all business. “What’s this.”

Lance’s lips curl. Wrists work against the cuffs. “Concealed carry, sir.” It’s a joke. It’s a joke he didn’t even realize he was gonna get to make when he put it in tonight - he’s so proud of himself.

Even more so as he’s rewarded with what comes next. “You realize I’m gonna have to strip search you now, right?”

Ohh nooo, anything but that. “Fine by me.”

Another shock of excitement tingles up Lance’s body as he feels hands on his belt. Hands on his pants button. Fingers tugging his zipper down from behind and then his pants are being yanked down to pool at his ankles, his bare ass on display as he hears Keith take a step back.

He’s all for it. Loves being admired. Pops his ass back so Keith can get a good look at the blue jewel plug waiting for him, no doubt sparkling in the light like intended.

It’s another instance where he’d kill to see Keith’s face - would do pretty much anything to see the moment where he makes the connection and realizes that Lance was about to go to dinner and a movie with a plug in the entire time.

 _And_ he got to make the concealed carry joke.

Could this night get any better?

“Keep still.”

Okay, Lance stands corrected. Because that’s definitely the snap of latex gloves being put on behind him. And Keith’s coming in close again. And Lance finds himself testing the strength of the handcuffs again right as he feels the nudge of the plug being toyed with inside him.

Lance pops his ass backward further, partially to avoid the press of his hard-on against the cold counter, but mostly because he knows he’s gonna get the grip on his hip -  _keeping_ him still. Still enough that Keith can get hold of the end of the plug and slowly pull.

Lance can’t help the heavy breath. Bites his lip as the friction leaves him empty and ready. Smirks as Keith leans forward, placing the plug right-side up on the counter inches away from where Lance’s face is still pressed.

“Got a permit for this?”

His eyes fall shut, heat pooling. “…no sir…”

“You understand you need a permit, correct?”

“Yes sir…”

The heat of Keith’s weight against him stays true, even with the two fingers presented to Lance from the other side. “Hiding anything else?”

Lance would answer, but he knows what those fingers mean - is intimately familiar with what’s expected from him when they press to his lips, the thin black gloves tasteless as he takes the pointer and middle fingers into his mouth.

So he goes with a mumbled, “Mm-mm,” sucking loyally. Making sure they’re wet. Although that’s not gonna be a problem with how much lube he used for the- “Mm- _ah…”_

The fingers pull from his mouth. Disappear. Keep him on edge until returning again to circle around Lance’s stretched entrance.

“You sure…?” Keith’s voice is getting heated - still stern - still authoritative - but feeling it now. “Why don’t I believe you.”

Lance’s hips sway against the teasing pressure, but he doesn’t say anything. There’s about fifty different things he could snap off right now, but he’s a little preoccupied with the way both of those fingers slowly press past his entrance, delving in and filling him up again.

They’re so much better than the plug. Feel around and probe inside him and inspect all his favorite spots and  _oh fuck, that last one is definitely dangerous._

A whine sounds from the back of his throat. He knows he’s not supposed to be moving but how the hell is he expected not to rock against Keith’s fingers when he strokes _that spot_  like that?

“Consider your item confiscated,” Keith murmurs in his ear again, his voice sending even more shivers down Lance’s spine. “And yourself under arrest.”

The metal cuffs are starting to hurt in the best way as Lance works against him - struggles to speak, “I-… Let me…change your mind…”

“You can’t.”

“Oh…” his chuckle is breathy, “I definitely can…”

The fingers inside him start to pump. “Are you bribing me, Mr. McClain?” Get that nice friction.

“Yes sir, I am.”

Oh-ho-ho… This is seriously way too fun. Lance fucking knew it would be. And he doesn’t even complain when Keith’s fingers pull out because his wrists are also being handled, metal clinking as one is freed so Keith can say:

“Turn.”

No problems there. None at all. Lance does exactly as he’s told, delighted to see Keith looking sexy as hell again when he gets to face him. He steps out of his pants as his wrists get cuffed in front of him. Puts up exactly zero fuss because it means he gets to touch him again - gets to press his bound hands palms-down onto Keith’s chest and direct him back toward the living room with mischief dancing in his eyes.

Keith allows it. Lets himself be directed to the couch and pushed playfully down. But he doesn’t help with his belt. That, he leaves to Lance, watching with heavy eyelids as the cuffs clink together while his pants gets eased over his hips.

Lance doesn’t mind working for it, honestly. Not when his prize is Keith’s cock springing beautifully from his pants, as hard as Lance was hoping and mouthwatering as always and  _yes,_  he swallows him down like his life actually depends on it. Like he’s really got his freedom on the line.

He doesn’t, of course. But it’s fun to pretend.

Keith rests his arms over the back of the couch - cracks his neck lazily as he watches, still clean cut and formal and unfairly hot in that uniform compared to how sloppy and horny Lance probably looks as he blows him on his knees.

He’d love a picture, but what he’d love even more is this dick inside him. So the next step isn’t exactly a shocker. Especially for Keith, who must know what’s coming and is still doing such a good fucking job at staying cool that it’s almost annoying. But it’s fine. Lance gives one last slurp and then gathers to his feet, hands still bound in front of him but balancing carefully as he climbs into his officer’s lap.

And damn…when he finally gets to sink onto that hard cock…finally feels nice and full again… Holy shit…

 _“Ughh…”_  It’s a groan of impossible pleasure, lashes fluttering but eyes staying open so he can see Keith’s face as he tenses his thighs to start the fuck he needs.

Because he’s still looking up at him, face stoic, but Lance can see it in his eyes. He can see how he’s fighting to stay in character. Fighting to keep his arms relaxed on the back of the couch and not touch. All things Lance knows he can break through.

The fabric of his uniform shirt is soft but pressed neatly as Lance slides his palms up his chest - feels the heat of his skin beneath it - tugs at his tie a little and notes the spark of heat in those eyes.

“You’ll let me go, won’t you sir?” he croons, bouncing on his cock the way he knows he likes. “Please…?”

Keith’s tongue draws his bottom lip in to wet it, his chest starting to rise and fall beneath Lance’s hands. He’s trying so hard. Clearly wanting so much to fulfill Lance’s fantasy for him.

And at this point, Lance is more than impressed. “Please, officer…” He leans in close, brushes his lips past Keith’s, slides his hands over the silver badge and nametag and the pressed collar to rest on the sides of Keith’s neck. “I’ll only be bad for  _you.”_

And he isn’t sure if it’s the near-kiss, or the touching, or the way he sways down on his cock, but the last bit of control slips from Keith’s fingers, his mouth surging up to slot against Lance’s hungrily.

Lance’s hum is happy as he relishes the hands swooping in to claim him - to slide up his back - to pull at the buttons of his dress shirt and push the fabric off his shoulders, chest bared and shirt hanging.

They urge him to keep moving, his thighs beginning to ache in the best way as he fucks himself on Keith’s cock. Because Keith’s finally letting on how much he’s enjoying himself too. And there’s nothing sexier than that. His blown pupils. His hungry mouth nipping at Lance’s collarbone as Lance messes his bound hands through that perfect hair - gets his slicked back bangs to hang messily over his forehead again.

And those hips are moving under him, matching his movements, getting Lance close enough that the heat is starting to pool between his legs.

“Fuck…” it slips from Lance’s lips, head tilting back as he waits for it to rush over him. “You’re gonna make me cum…”

Keith’s eyes are on him again, hips starting to snap up as he says it. “Just for me?”

“Y-… Yes sir-”

“Say it-”

“Gonna cum for you sir-”

“Again-”

“Gonna-… _oh fuck, I’m g-”_

Lance’s back arches in the air, cuffs clanking as he raises his hands to his hair and lets the orgasm roll through his body. It’s a rush and almost overwhelming and his thighs tremble as his cum stripes across the dark uniform in front of him.

Keith fucks him through it. Keeps his hips snapping and  _fucks him through it_ and tips over hot and thick inside him, voice ragged.

And for a moment, there’s nothing but silence.

Heavy breath and satisfied silence.

And…

Holy-… Holy fuck…

“Oh my  _god…”_  Lance doesn’t even know what to say, forgetting for a moment about the handcuffs as he goes to wipe his sweaty bangs from his forehead.

Keith however…he’s ready. “Your-… Your plug is still confiscated…”

He says it through ragged breaths, his badge glinting in the lamp light every so often.

And Lance is already trying to figure out the best way to get that stain out so they can use this uniform again, his smile tired but satisfied.

“Yes sir.”

 


	27. Exhibitionism - Degradation - Against a wall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **October 27th**  
>  **Exhibitionism/Voyeurism | Degradation** | ~~Gun Play~~ | **Against a wall**
> 
> **Additional tags: please carefully note the included bolded kinks!, lance goes to the church to get help from the priest and instead commits several acts of heresy while he’s waiting, dubious consent even tho lance is into bc vampire magic, blasphemy as far as the eye can see, if i wasnt going to hell before this then i definitely am now and im taking you all with me
> 
> Part Three of the Vampire AU (part one) (part two)

Lance has to take action.

He can’t continue to give into this vampire’s whims, no matter how pleasurable they may be. Even if he enjoys it deep down. He may be wrapped around his finger when it comes to that, but Lance still has a brain in his head. And a job to complete. And a reputation to uphold.

And this is why he makes this late-night plan to meet with the village priest, long after everyone else has gone to sleep and he can confess his sins and beg for forgiveness and  _help. Something. Anything._

He already knows his plan isn’t a secret. Not one thing can run through his mind anymore without being shared. Which is why he isn’t completely shaken when that voice touches his brain the second he steps foot out his door and into the night air.

_“Where are you going…”_

He’s playing with him. Lance expected this. But it doesn’t make the shivers run down his spine any less.

He keeps walking. Stays true on his path toward the peaked roof of the church. Focuses on the crunch of the leaves under his boots and the chill of the air on his face instead of feeding him ammunition through his thoughts.

The windows of the homes he passes are all dark, their candles extinguished long ago. Only the moonlight paves his way. The moonlight and the ever present feeling that a certain someone is lurking behind every corner.

_“Little hunter…”_

Among the darkened homes…

Shallow in the tree line…

_“Little hunter…”_

Lance quickens his pace, hand on his pistol and eyes forward.

This one, he will win.

The wooden door of the church creaks as he slowly enters, glancing around for the familiar face but finding nothing but empty pews.

“…Father?”

The moonlight streams in through the large pane of stained glass at the front, casting dull colors across the floor.

“Father, are you here?”

He waits a breath, not ready to give into concern just yet. Not even when he hears it…knowing…

_“Something must have happened to him…”_

Lance does his best to ignore it. Keith’s trying to rile him up. Trying to make him doubt. “He’ll be here,” he insists, and then closes the door after himself and begins his walk down the short aisle to wait.

At least here, Keith can’t manifest. He may be able to speak to him but he can’t touch him.

_“No…?”_

The cool pulse of energy passing over the back of Lance’s neck startles him, but he can’t fall prey. He has to stay true. He needs to stay here and wait for the priest and-… 

And…

Lance draws a hand over the back of one of the pews, something in his chest turning sour.

_“You’re trying to get rid of me…”_

He frowns… Draws his hand away from the wood… “Of course I am.”

_“Why…”_

“Because you’re evil.” What a stupid question.

Except that energy is back on his neck, spreading to wrap around it in full and ease down his chest like cold, possessive hands.  _“I meant… Why are you trying to get rid of_  this?”

Lance swallows. Knows far too well that he can’t give into that kind of thing. Not  _here._

He keeps moving.

The altar is still moved away to the side from the choir this morning, but Lance stands in the empty space regardless, staring up at the heavenly beams depicted in the stained glass. Soon he’ll return. He’ll set foot on the righteous path once again.

_“What makes you think you can come back from what you’ve done…”_

Lance straightens.

Keith’s trying to shake him.

“I can,” he affirms. “I can come back.”

_“But do you want to…?”_

Trying to shake him. “Yes.”

 _“Your thoughts say otherwise.”_  He’s trying. Is confident. _“We both know exactly how much you’re lying right now.”_  Is  _shaking him. “Isn’t that right…little hunter…”_

Lance swallows - God forgive him - can’t help but let his eyes close as the cool energy licks down his skin under his clothes and toward his pants - knows he should be resisting more but the teasing has certain parts of his resolve shutting down just like last time -  _God forgive him._

The moonlight shines yellows and oranges over his skin but the only heat he feels is from the inside out. The only otherworldly presence he feels - only presence he’s felt  _for a while now -_ it’s corrupt - corrupt and malevolent and-…and enticing…

Lance unties his cloak, letting it drop to his feet but only because he’s so warm. Not for any other reason.

_“You’re sure it’s not because you’re about to defile a sacred space?”_

The grin in Keith’s tone is condescending and terrible and works down toward Lance’s lap just like the cold energy. But he has to resist. Has to speak it. “This isn’t me.”

It’s Keith.

It’s Keith it’s Keith it’s Keith it’s Keith.

_“You’re the one taking your clothes off.”_

Lance’s eyes snap open, suddenly very aware of the shirt balled in his hands.  _His_  shirt. He doesn’t even remember taking it off but-…

Oh Lord, he’s stripping down where the altar should be.

He has to leave.

Lance turns, feet intending to carry him down the short aisle and back out the door before he desecrates anything further. But then that energy is slipping all over him again - snaking up his legs - stroking pleasantly down his neck. Keeping him still without trying.

_“I thought you were waiting for the priest…”_

“I-…” he takes a step back, breath beginning to pick up. “I am.” Takes another step, those breaths echoing off the ceiling of the small church.

 _“Oh good…”_  The concentrated energy slithers up Lance’s stomach just as his back presses to the cool pane of the stained glass behind him. _“Let’s wait for him together.”_

Lance opens his mouth to fire off something firm, but his words tumble loose at the feeling of the cool tendrils lapping over his bare nipples, perking them pleasantly and devoting all their attention to them.

The noise that slips from his mouth is scandalous. Not something one should be hearing in a holy space. Definitely not one  _he should be making_ in a holy space. But the invisible tongues are impossible not to give into, his back arching off the glass and mouth dropping open just like-

 _“Just like last time.”_  No… God forgive him.  _“You sure think about that a lot for someone who’s supposed to be walking a righteous path, don’t you…”_

Lance’s eyes shut in shame. But… It’s not his fault.

_“It is.”_

No. He’s not the one doing this. It’s Keith taking him over and messing with him and making him-

 _“I’m not making you do_ anything…” his voice assures with terrifying confidence, “ _You’re the one who fantasizes about us all the time…”_

He doesn’t. “I don’t…”

He does.

_“I thought you realized you can’t hide what you want from me…”_

Lance squirms against the glass, the suction on his nipples pulling a needy whine from him that does nothing but completely work against him. “It’s-…” his breath hitches in his throat at a purposely timed pinch. But he can get it out. “It’s wrong.” He can say it, even if he’s embarrassed by the way it all falls out like a whimper. “It’s-…”

It’s sacrilegious.

It is.

But…

_“That’s what makes it feel so good.”_

Lance’s head falls back against the stained glass, the slight pain registered at the same exact time as the alarming feeling of his pants collecting at his ankles on the floor. Because-

Oh no.

_Oh no._

Oh no’s there’s no way he’s-

Keith’s rumble of a chuckle echoes in his brain as he laughs at him - mocks him - and he  _should_  be because Lance is-  _“Indecent…”_

Lance pulls his hands away from where he’s untied his pants. All by himself. Of his own volition.

He’s-…

 _“You look beautiful…”_  comes the voice… The invisible hand gently tilting his chin up so he can’t hide… The energy easing his legs apart and arms above his head… Baring him… Spreading him, completely naked against the church’s stained glass.  _“Your ‘god’ doesn’t deserve someone like you…”_

The heat that washes over Lance’s entire body is overwhelming and confusing and yet it’s the most excitement he’s ever felt in his life. Despite being on display like this - despite sinning here - or maybe…

Or maybe… _because of it…?_

The invisible tongues licking at Lance’s hard nipples continue to play, but there’s always room for more, always another cool hand to smooth over his skin, this one in particular wrapping tightly around where his cock is so hard he’s aching.

Because it’s all out in the open now.

It’s all up for grabs.

And he shouldn’t be delighted. He shouldn’t be thankful, wanting the friction to stroke him faster - shouldn’t  _ever_ but especially shouldn’t  _here._  But there’s nothing he wants more. Sacrilegious or not.

And he wants more.

_“Were you thinking about this when you were here this morning…?”_

They both already know the answer, but that doesn’t stop Lance from thinking about it now. Doesn’t do anything but feed the images into his head - his normal view up from the third row of pews - the altar and the Father and everything he’s used to seeing during a sermon wiped away and himself replacing it and-

And Lord…

What would everyone say? Seeing him like this? Naked and hips beginning to chase after the energy jerking him off? What would they even look like watching him?

_“Let’s see, shall we?”_

No sooner than the voice enters his mind does Lance feel a swirl of haze wrapping over his brain, his vision blurring for a moment before coming to again. Only this time, the pews aren’t empty.

This time…

Lance blushes deep, shame washing over him from the chest out as pairs of eyes join in to watch him one by one. Eyes he knows. Eyes he’s close to. Eyes that should see him as the well respected hunter that he is.

But he can’t stop. He can’t break away or close his legs or stop the moans that are beginning to drip from him. Even with their reactions.  _Especially_ with their reactions. The shock. Familiar hands over familiar mouths.

It’s insanity but Lance  _feeds off of it._  Doesn’t want to accept the tingle of sick pleasure he gets from it but also can’t deny it.

Knows Keith is going to say something or laugh at him for being turned on at the prospect of getting off in front of the entire village, but…

But…

 _“The priest…”_  he says instead, tone warning but in control and in the present.  _“He draws near…”_

Lance’s eyes roll to the back of his head in bliss, lips parting around the column of energy working past them, mouth filling.

He’s never felt anything like this. Has never been given this through devotion.

Has never been so worked up and riding high and when he opens his eyes again, the pews are once again empty - the visions dissolved.

But it’s only a matter of time before he’s not alone. This time, for real.

_“You don’t even care, do you…”_

It floods his brain.

Is right up close but somehow far away with the thrill and full-bodied pleasure working over him.

_“You want him to see.”_

Hypnotic.

_“You’re filthier than I gave you credit for…”_

It’s true. 

It’s true. Lance wants him to see. Wants him to witness what the other side offers. Wants him to witness the glory of giving in.

It’s all coming to a head, his entire body shaking and begging for that last tip over - for the  _unholy sin_ \- for the church doors to finally creak open and mark those sins unforgivable and for those very real eyes to finally fall on him in horror - watching Lance, naked and spread eagle against the divine portrayal of everything he’s supposed to carry holy - eyes rolled back in his head in indulgence - immoral energy lifting him high into the air until his sins have covered the maker’s image and he’s arching through his orgasm - Keith taking him there - Keith  _always taking him there and Lance feels absolutely fucking reborn._

Lets it take him over. Lets it swallow him up. Lets it sink its teeth into him one more blessed time because fuck repentance. Fuck forgiveness. He’s done pretending.

The stone is cold against his bare feet as he touches back down, but he walks steady. Walks in the path he chooses. Embraces those invisible hands on him as he reaches where the priest has been struck frozen in silence.

And all at once, he feels whole. No longer torn between what he should and shouldn’t do.What he should and shouldn’t desire. No longer hating himself for giving in to what he wants.

He is whole.

Keith’s cold energy eases over his shoulders from behind. Possessive. Encouraging. His voice lingering at his ear.

_“Tell him where you’re going.”_

And Lance simply smirks, eyes gone dark but without shame as he leans in a touch, a breath away from the priest when he says it.

“I’m going with  _him.”_

The church doors creak as he pulls them open and saunters through, leaving it all behind him.

Outside, the cool energy wraps over his shoulder…

Follows him closely…

Welcomes him, proudly, into the open arms of the night.


	28. Striptease

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **October 28th**  
>  “I felt it. You know what I mean.”  
>  ~~Omorashi~~ | **Stripping/Striptease** | ~~Vore | Humiliation~~  
>  Additional tags: space camp au, frottage, enemies to lovers, and also virgins :)

Lance knows starting a story off with “this one time at Space Camp” doesn’t exactly paint him in the best light, but _listen._ He’s been going to this camp since he was a kid. He grew up with this people. And it’s his final summer before he goes off to college and leaves it all behind him, so he’s aiming for some nights to remember.

It’s just… The nights to remember are fighting him. Proving to be tricky. But tonight’s the one - the second to last night before they all go off and do their own shit and the atmosphere is buzzing around him, everyone on that same grind to make memories before it’s too late.

It’s why they’re in the meeting room when they shouldn’t be. When the staff has all gone to their own building to sleep. Everyone agrees to show up there at midnight, and they keep the lights off except for a few key spots so the night patrol doesn’t suspect anything.

It’s where Lance finds himself in the Spin The Bottle circle, the only hookup he’ll get at this rate being fate deciding to continuously fuck him over. Because it’s a big circle. And the bottle’s landing on everyone but him. And they’re not even gonna make it to his spin at this rate.

But look. There are a ton of girls in this circle that he’d willingly kiss. A few he’d have to suck it up for, too. But honestly…anything at this point would be better than how he’s doing.

Except that would be too easy. Because that would require fate to  _not_ fuck him. But it keeps spinning its metaphorical bottle and landing on him, because he’s two away from his turn when everyone decides to change the game up to Truth or Dare.

Ugh. Okay. There’s still room for mackin’ with Truth or Dare, it’s just… So much more is left up to chance. And he’d really just like to hang onto this Guaranteed Kisses thing for two rounds more so he can have his turn.

That’s fine. Whatever. He’ll make do, he guesses.

And for once, fate kind of only fucks him in an ass-backwards, vague kind of way. Because his dare? When it’s his turn?

“Alright McClain. You gotta strip for whoever talks to you next.”

Lance narrows his eyes, calculating all the ways this can go wrong. All the ways it can go right. But most importantly: “Seriously? You know no one’s gonna talk to me for the rest of the night now, right?”

His dare distributor shrugs with a smirk, but doesn’t say anything. Of course. Because apparently that’s the very funny joke now and  _ahhh Lance is gonna have his night to remember even if it kills hi-_

“You  _would_  lose at Spin the Bottle.” The familiar voice that crops up behind him in passing sends needles of dread up Lance’s spine, his shoulders hunching as it continues on its unsuspecting way to the other side of the room. “Gotta be braindead to wanna kiss you.”

Because  _fuck._  No. Anyone but  _Keith Kogane._

The rush of noise as everyone makes the connection surges probably louder than it should, Lance not even turning around and face buried in his hands as there’s some commotion behind him, Keith most likely pulling his best angry face as he’s taken by the arms and forcibly ‘helped’ into the nearest chair.  

“Fuck me…” he mumbles into his palms, the same time as Keith’s confused sputtering.

But a dare’s a dare. And Lance has a reputation to uphold. And he can still come back from this if he just gets it over with and moves on with enough time for everyone to forget about it and find him attractive again.

So.

Lance stands with a huff. Turns grudgingly on his heels. Fixes Keith with the dirtiest, most unamused look he can. “You just  _had_  to fucking talk to me, didn’t you.”

And Keith looks honest to god lost, brows knit in aggravation as his forearms are held down to the arms of the chair. “The fuck is going  _on-”_

“Alright, McClain! Make with the Magic Mike!”

Even that doesn’t seem to be enough of a clue for him. But Keith  _is_  a hermited loser so…

The familiar beginning of Pony blaring on someone’s phone has Lance wishing for death. Swift, unflinching death.

Fuck.

Okay. Alright. He can do this.

The cheering around him is more teasing than anything. Apparently everyone’s getting their sick kicks out of making Lance strip for the one person he clearly can’t stand. And that shit is a two-way street. That’s obvious even without the glare that he’s getting blasted up at him. But he goes through with it. Pulls his hoodie quickly over his head without trying and lets it flop to the floor and  _fuck, this is so stupid-_

“Make it sexy, McClain!”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now…” he practically hisses it. But everyone’s watching. And Keith’s stilling against the people holding him down - must be  _finally understanding._  And Lance won’t look at him but he  _will_ go slower for the next one.

He takes his time easing his shirt up past his abs, but he doesn’t like it.

Sways his hips a little for the sake of pleasing Whoever He Needs To Please enough to let him be done, taking solace in the thought that at least he gets to show off this way. Gets to flash the goods. Gets to flex as he works his shirt up over his shoulders and tosses it into Keith’s chest where he’s-…

Where…

Lance pauses… Fingers on his belt… Can’t drag his eyes away because he’s finally seeing it. Finally noticing the look on Keith’s face. The very faint flush of his skin. The way he’s still frowning, but the anger in his gaze has disappeared. Disappeared and…gotten…

“Stop stalling!”

The random shout has Lance slowly rolling back into action, but it’s suddenly impossible to look away now. Impossible to unsee that look in Keith’s eyes as he stares up at him, gaze wide but the confusion no longer seeming to revolve around why he’s being held down.

No. This seems to be something much deeper than that. Much scarier.

A silent, creeping, unwanted epiphany.

Kind of like the one currently working its way down Lance’s spine as they stare at each other…lingering…blossoming confusingly in his chest. Because…

Oh…

Hang on…

“Okay, this sucks.”

Someone says it behind him but he doesn’t really hear them. Can’t really focus on anything besides the curiosity curling deep in his belly. Doesn’t even realize that the song got cut off until the two people flanking Keith pull off and rejoin everyone else.

And Keith… He’s kinda…

A rush of adrenaline washes over Lance as Keith stands from the chair, gaze falling anywhere but forward as he stuffs Lance’s shirt back against his chest and then stalks off without a word.

And Lance just… _watches him go._

Still can’t look away, even as he disappears out the door…

It’s the feeling in his gut. Intrusive. Curious.

It’s what makes his brain start to work, everyone else around him filtering back in as he steps back into focus, his shirt stretching over his neck as he finally throws it back on.

\- - - - -

The rest of the night is disjointed. Voices around him chatter but don’t form words. Everything in front of him happens, but like it’s on a second screen - mesh - hazy under the memory of those uneasy eyes staring up at him.

Lance doesn’t hook up with anyone.

Doesn’t even get a kiss.

He’s desperate to push his turning stomach on that - to pass it off as disappointment - but…

The individual sleeping rooms are tiny but the window lets in just enough moonlight for Lance to peer up to the galaxy painted on the ceiling. Sleep is not going to come easy tonight. He can already tell. His body is way too worked up.

_knock knock_

The thin mattress groans under his weight as he props himself up on his elbow, eyes to the door but not moving any further than that. He really doesn’t want any visitors right now, to be honest. He kind of just wants to lie here. Pitifully. Like the loser he i-

_creeeak_

It’s his door cracking… Slowly pushing open regardless of his lack of welcome… And Lance is about to fire off a few words about privacy when the silhouette slips through, noiseless and almost a little terrifying but then it steps into the moonlight… Hesitant…

And…

“…Lance…?”

Something heavy settles in Lance’s chest, his body forcing itself to sit up in bed because-… It’s-…

He clears his throat. Tries to swallow down the alarming rush of adrenaline as he says it. “You’re-…” tone hesitant - “This isn’t your room, Kogane.”

Because it’s a mixup. Yeah. Keith definitely knocks if he thinks he’s going to his own room. Right?

Except…

“I know…” is his quiet answer, “I’m not stupid…”

It’s the perfect opportunity for a jab. To lighten the mood with an insult. But there’s something about him that renders even Lance’s taunting uncalled for.

Because he’s-… Keith’s-…

He looks different, standing here behind Lance’s closed door. His signature frown has lost its displeasure. Or maybe…he’s still not pleased about something, but he doesn’t know how to deal with it? Can’t punch it away or degrade it like he does with the rest of his issues?

Or maybe he technically still can.

“Listen,” Lance fiddles with his fingers in his lap as he speaks. It’s a lot better than having to look at that frown. “I know you’re here to like…beat the shit outta me for what I did to you tonight. I mean, I  _almost_ kinda get it. Just-”

“Shut up a sec.”

Lance bristles, glancing back up at him again. But it’s the wrong move. Because he still looks on edge in the most troublesome way, even  _with_ telling him to shut up. But Lance is just gonna let that slide.

And it seems to be expected, because Keith is taking a hesitant step forward, gaze slipping to Lance’s hands but tone careful when he says it, “I-… I know you hate me…” takes another step, “And I hate you, but…” reaches the middle of Lance’s room, and then lets his attention trail back up to Lance’s face, focused eyes shimmering in the moonlight… “Tonight…” he almost whispers, “I felt it…”

It has the air heavy in Lance’s lungs. Has him swallowing thickly, words failing him. He… “…what…?”

But Keith isn’t falling for it. He’s strong again. For just a moment. Eyes never leaving him. “You know what I mean…”

It all sweeps over Lance like a dream - has his pulse quick in his ears, impossible to ignore like the nerves beginning to buzz in his chest because-… Because yes. Yes, he-…

He knows what Keith means.

The stretch of silence is so heavy that he can feel it pressing him down into the mattress. But he doesn’t know what to do - what he could possibly  _say._  He’s still trying to come to grasps with the dawning realization that the feeling of dread in his stomach every time he saw this boy as they grew up was  _probably not dread…_

“Tell me to go…”

Keith’s still looking at him as Lance meets his gaze. Clears his throat again. “…huh?”

And now he’s moving again, another curl of bewildering interest unfolding in Lance’s gut as he starts to slowly tug down the zipper of his hoodie. “Tell me to leave you alone.”

It has Lance frozen, eyes widening but unable to look away as he watches. Not wanting to stop Keith from easing out of his zip-up and letting it drop to the floor behind him because he…doesn’t  _want_  him to stop. Doesn’t want him to  _go._

“Tell me.” He’s almost daring him now. Asking him to.

But Lance…quietly…

“…no…”

Something in Keith’s eyes flashes in the dark - impending finality - terrified acceptance. It flashes and Lance can hear him swallow roughly before he crosses his arms over himself…hooks his fingers under the hem of his black shirt…takes a moment - silent - and then slowly lifts it over his head.

And Lance is on his way to panicking, but it’s the smoothest panic he’s ever ridden, more interested tingles in his stomach as he breathes out, hesitantly drinking in the view of Keith taking his shirt off in front of him. “…oh my god…”

Because he’s…actually pretty hot, honestly. Lean muscles. Nice shoulders. Lance had no idea he had all that going on under there this whole time.

But why would he?

“Did you kiss anyone…?” Keith’s movements are careful. Nearly trembling fingers untying his pajama shorts. “Tonight…”

Lance can’t drag his eyes away. Fucking hates the nerves swirling in his stomach because he can’t tell what they’re all stirred up for. “N-…” His failed plans…?  _…Keith?_ “…no…”

They’re churning and making themselves known and almost more overwhelming than the way his pulse picks up painfully in his chest as Keith tucks his thumbs under his waistband, “…you  _want_ to…?” and slides his shorts down over his thighs.

They pool at his ankles and that panic is starting to get less smooth. More blatant. Still not as overwhelming as the nerves because  _holy fuck…_  Keith’s-… He’s in his briefs… And he’s in Lance’s room… And he’s asking him if he still wants to kiss somebody and-…

Lance swallows down the lump in his throat, actually speaking so far out of the question right now it’s ridiculous. So he just…nods…shortly… Confirms it.

Yes, he’d like to kiss someone.

Yes… _he’d like to kiss Keith…_

Oh god… That’s a concept he never thought would cross his mind.

Keith steps forward, floorboards creaking under his bare feet. And suddenly Lance is hyper-aware of how much skin is showing - how close he’s getting - how it sets his heartbeat thumping in his chest.

“Lance…”

Keith’s leaning downward, frown guarded and eyes elsewhere but hands still framing Lance’s lap on the bed.

He’s gotta say something. Has to stop being such a fucking coward.

“What.”

It comes out harsh and too loud. Especially compared to Keith’s murmuring as he asks it.

“Have you had your first kiss yet…?”

Another adrenaline rush. Washing over him like crazy. It has him easing backward - creating a little space between them as a humorless laugh falls from his lips. “I-… We’re going to college, Keith.”

“I know.” He doesn’t follow him. Yet. “But have you?”

And  _fuck_ him. He thinks he knows Lance. Thinks he can ask questions like that. Thinks he can start to creep forward, cologne heavy in Lance’s senses and _fuck - okay - alright._  “No,” he snaps. Irritated. Embarrassed.

But Keith doesn’t make fun of him. Doesn’t call him out on the carefully constructed facade Lance has painted for himself - all of it lies.

No. Instead, he climbs onto the bed, mattress dipping, legs criss-crossed as he sits in front of Lance but doesn’t look at him, almost talking to himself. “Oh… I thought you had…”

Lance doesn’t know what to do with his hands. What does he-… What does he do with his hands? “Well I haven’t.” More snapping. Back pressed to the wall. Heart sinking as Keith looks up at him, no longer enough space to hide.

“I haven’t either…”

Fuck, why is his stomach flipping so much? “O-…” Why’s he so aware of his own breath? “Okay… Uh…”

He…

Oh…

Oh god…

He actually  _wants Keith to kiss him, doesn’t he…_

The space starts to close again, Keith back on his knees, but there’s nowhere for Lance to go this time. He’s trapped, back literally against a wall. And he’s pretty sure his heart is going to slam out of his fucking chest because oh-…

He saves himself one last inch of space, tilting his chin down, but that’s all before he feels it - too soft and hesitant and startlingly unsure - Keith’s lips brushing over his for a breath. Barely pressing.

And Lance doesn’t even get a chance to react - to kiss back if he wanted to - dear god,  _he wants to_ \- because Keith’s leaning back. So,  _so fucking unsure._  Brows furrowed as he stares at Lance’s mouth and then flicks up to Lance’s eyes in silent, worrying contemplation.

His breath is warm and nearly trembling against his face and before he can blink they’re back - Keith’s lips. Only Lance has leaned forward too - he’s met him halfway - and it all may be shy and tentative but he can’t deny the spark of delight that lights when they press firmer. Because it’s like-…like an actual kiss.

 _Is_  an actual kiss.

Lance is kissing Keith.

And he’s waiting for one of them to say it.

_I don’t like this._

_We were wrong - this is weird._

But it’s not coming.

And Keith is pressing closer. And Lance is kissing him harder. And he still doesn’t know what the fuck to do with his hands but neither, it seems, does Keith.

It just barely takes the edge off - seeing first-hand that he’s just as inexperienced as Lance is. Just barely, though. Because Lance’s palms are clammy where they tremble around his hold in the bed sheets, but he has no choice but to lift them when he feels it - the heavy weight climbing and settling into his lap.

Keith’s getting closer.

And Lance just has to make one thing clear. “I don’t-…” Except he’s not sure how to say it.

But Keith’s on the same page. “It’s fine,” breathy against Lance’s mouth, “I don’t either…” Even as he suddenly tilts his hips, grinding his ass into Lance’s lap and _-_

 _“Fuck…”_  He doesn’t mean to let it slip but he didn’t get any damn warning - should’ve seen it coming but he  _didn’t_ and okay, alright, Keith definitely  _feels_  like he knows what he’s doing - what the fuck.

“Tell me to stop,” he almost whispers, lips ghosting over Lance’s as he speaks before diving in again.

It’s sloppy and unpracticed and Lance answers back hungrily, a little more confident now that there’s something much more intense to worry about. “Mm-mm,” he denies.

Because he might be on the verge of a heart attack, but there’s no denying how easily that heat pools in his lap with Keith rubbing against him like this.

He may lose a little bit of himself, honestly. May rock his hips up into it without realizing. But it gives him an easy place to put his hands at least, still clammy on Keith’s bare skin.

Only his hands aren’t the only ones on the move.

Another spike of adrenaline fires up his chest at the feeling of fingers wrapping in the bottom of his shirt - giving a little experiment of a pull - trying without being too obvious to see if it could be a universal thing.

And Lance has already stripped out of his shirt in front of Keith once tonight…

The fabric flows easily over his chest as he moves away from the wall to give Keith the room to undress him. It’s easy and scary but he doesn’t have a lot of time to worry about it, because pretty soon the room is tilting - he’s got Keith by the waist - they’re landing on his pillow and he’s flipping him onto his back and Keith actually looks really fucking cute under him like this.

It’s…shocking, to say the least. But not enough to stop him from moving his hips, finding the right spot and then picking up the grind that Keith started. Because he’s quickly realizing that it doesn’t matter that they aren’t friends. It doesn’t matter that he spent all these years trying to avoid him. What matters is what’s happening right now - right in front of him - the sound of Keith panting beneath him, eyelids getting heavy as Lance rubs against him.

Because this is all he can focus on -  _he’s_  all he can focus on - all he  _wants_ to focus on as the rush of heat starts to work its way up. And Keith may be digging his nails into his back but he doesn’t fucking care - he’ll yell at him later - right now all he wants is the pleasant tingle and the buildup and those eyes drinking him in as everything goes hazy - tips over - washes over him for the first time with somebody else and-…

Lance buries his face in his pillow next to Keith’s head, groan muffled but still noticeable as he cums in his sweatpants, hips stuttering. But Keith’s got his own shit to work out anyway, judging by the long, ragged breath and the way he drags his nails down Lance’s bare back.

It hurts.  _Really_ fucking hurts.

But for a reason he’d rather not delve into right now, it has his mouth dropping open in pleasure against the pillow.

That’s for another time, though. A time when they aren’t still panting, hips twitching every once in a while from a surprise after-wave. A time when Lance doesn’t feel the strong hand of reality winding itself up for a back-hand.

There’s a lot that needs to be thought about. Much to be discussed. But for now, he’ll simply chuckle to himself, still muffled by the pillow, Keith taking the bait with a breathy, “What…?”

Because it’s far too perfect, his smirk steady as he lifts his head to stare down at him, tone teasing.

“You were right. Gotta be  _braindead_ to wanna kiss me.”

 


End file.
